Left For Dead
by Malanna
Summary: Sequel to "Dead to Rights". After the battle for Sookie's survival, a tribunal has been called, and the vampire community is facing threats to their very existence. Spoilers for books 1-8 and 'Gift Wrap'.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I want to thank all of you who have been awaiting the arrival of this sequel for your patience. This is the follow up to my story Dead to Rights. If you haven't read it, I'd highly suggest doing so (also the short story In Between), or you'll be missing a lot pertaining to this sequel. To all of you who have been sending pms and reviews encouraging me to continue, there aren't enough words to express my gratitude. I hope Left For Dead will live up to your expectations.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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**Left For Dead - Part I**

**"We are vigorously pursuing all leads. I want to personally assure the residents of Bossier City, and all Louisiana, that State and Federal law enforcement agencies are working in full cooperation, and that the culpable parties will be caught and brought to justice."**

I hugged my knees up to my chest, unable to look away from the television screen. Sam reached an arm around my shoulders, giving me a gentle squeeze.

**"It was a grim scene today in the parking lot of the Bossier City Horseshoe Hotel and Casino as hundreds of mourners gathered to lay flowers and candles in an impromptu memorial to the victims of the New Year's Eve Massacre. Details are still sketchy, but here's what we know so far, Brad: acting on information from a victim who managed to escape the bloodshed, police arrived here three days ago and began a search of the hotel grounds. Using ground scanning radar, the first body was located about four hours into the search. Over the next two days, a total of fourteen sets of human remains were located, and police aren't ruling out the possibility of more casualties yet to be found. According to the tipster, whom police won't identify due to security concerns, a group of vampires turned the nights' festivities into tragedy; attacking, feeding from, and killing scores of party-goers."**

I felt Sam's grip on my shoulders tighten as we watched the local news reporter. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. We were sitting on my living room couch, about to leave for Merlotte's, when the newscast began. I was numb... maybe in shock... the full gravity of the situation finally hitting me. My thoughts drifted back to the last night I'd spent with Eric...

_"Sookie... they've called a tribunal."_

My first instinct had been that Russell Edgington or Victor Madden had betrayed Eric, somehow making him look solely responsible for the death of Felipe de Castro.

_"I wish that's all it were..."_ he'd responded. Even Eric didn't know then just how bad things were going to get.

The cleanup from New Year's had received far less than the normal vampire efficiency. There were too many injured, too many dead. Those still standing were more concerned with getting others to safety and medical treatment (in the case of the shifters) or blood. Despite Eric, Russell, and Victor's incessant planning, everything had fallen apart in the aftermath. Bodies of fallen shifters, and humans caught in the crossfire, were hastily buried close by. Humans easily found were glamoured or drained, but there was too much chaos to account for every witness.

The hotel wasn't vampire owned, and it was the last place any of them would've chosen to stage their attack. In retrospect, I was shocked Russell had even agreed to being involved, but I guessed Eric didn't give him much choice if Edgington wanted to lay any claim to Louisiana. The whole nightmare had come about because, once again, Eric had to save me. Felipe de Castro was only moments away from turning me, making me into his vampire child. The result, which Pam called a 'minor skirmish', was the battle now being termed 'The New Year's Eve Massacre' by the press. Eric had risked everything just to keep me with him... and now it looked as though it may all be in vain.

From what little information I could get out of Eric, knowledge that a witness had escaped detection had come from a mole the shifters planted with the Fellowship of the Sun, much like Luna had been in Dallas. Apparently the girl had gone to the Fellowship first. It was now apparent they'd talked her into coming forward to the police, and with a completely twisted version of events. There had been several attempts by the vampires and shifters to get to her, but the Fellowship had been smart enough to hide her away in an undisclosed location, probably only known to Steve Newlin and his closest advisors. She was just what they needed to revive their reputations, and take them from the status of a fanatical cult, to a mainstream activist group.

Needless to say, the vampire community at large had been forced into scramble mode. The repercussions of this... development could force them back into the shadows... into hiding... perhaps fighting for their very survival. The radical right was already calling them demons of evil that must be purged, others were calling them terrorists. Eric told me the highest echelon of vampire society, something called the Council of Seven, had been convened. I really had little idea of what that meant, and Eric wouldn't elaborate, other than to tell me they had called the tribunal.

There were dozens of vampires that were to be tried, including Bill, Pam, and several others from Fangtasia. However, the three principle cases were Russell Edgington, Victor Madden, and Eric. I had begged and pleaded with Eric to take me with him, but he said it was absolutely not possible, and there was no way he could keep me safe. This tribunal would be nothing like the ones in Rhodes, and no humans would be allowed anywhere near it. I couldn't even get a general location out of him. I'd never wished so much that I could read vampire minds, and was still debating calling my Great Grandfather for help to find it. At one point, during my hysterics that night, I'd asked Eric to turn me just so I could go. He'd refused, claiming reasons that he wouldn't be able to be there for me as a new vampire, but I didn't need to be a mind reader to know the real reason. He knew I didn't really want to be a vampire, and he'd only have been taking advantage of my desperate state.

They'd all left the night after Eric told me. Fangtasia was closed until further notice. Eric had round the clock bodyguards watching me, including Sam. I'd even discovered, through a slip by Sam, that Eric had put him in charge of a trust fund that was to support me and pay for guards indefinitely, in the event he didn't...

Sam pulled me tighter into his arms as I broke down for probably the hundredth time that day. He stroked my hair and did his best to soothe me, and I buried my face in his chest, soaking yet another shirt of his. I hated being so weak, and it just made me cry more. Eric had asked me to be strong for him, and I promised I would try... but my thoughts were consumed with nightmarish scenarios, each one worse than the last. Would they torture him? Stake him? Starve him for decades?

"Shhh... Sookie," Sam said gently.

"I can't, Sam... I can't take this..." I croaked out between sobs.

He put a finger beneath my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "Can you still feel him?" he asked.

I swallowed hard, closing my eyes, and tried to probe the bond as Eric had taught me the night before he left. I breathed a small sigh of relief. He was still with me. I couldn't feel any specific emotion, the distance must be too great, but I could at least confirm he wasn't finally dead. I knew if the night came I could no longer feel him... well, I didn't know what I would do.

I nodded to Sam, and he smiled softly, wiping my tears with his sleeve. He didn't seem to mind that he was going through shirts like tissues the last few days. I was so grateful that he was with me, and knew that he, Amelia, and Claudine were the only ones preventing me from becoming entirely unglued. I suspected the three of them had worked out some sort of 'Take Care of Sookie' schedule. Not a moment had gone by that at least one of them wasn't there.

I had other guards as well. Eric had made arrangements with Alcide for my daytime protection. Nights were handled by Bubba mostly, but a new vampire named Elana was also around. She was Bill's new... well, I wasn't entirely sure what they were to each other, but she was apparently living with him. She wasn't around during the battle, so I guessed that's why she wasn't called to the tribunal. As for Bubba, well... he's Bubba, and I suppose even the big whig vamp council revered him... or at least pitied him.

Normally I would've fought all this guarding and babying by my friends tooth and nail, but I knew I needed them. My pride had given up the moment I realized Eric was in real danger. I wouldn't add to his stress by causing him to worry about my well-being, even though he would anyway. Eric didn't think anyone but him could truly protect me, and I had to indulge anything that would bring him some small measure of solace. Besides, I didn't think I'd have gotten past the first night without my friends. Some moments it felt like my fear would just swallow me whole.

Sam clicked off the television, nudging me. "We need to get going, Sooks. Go splash some cold water on your face, and I'll meet you at the car."

I nodded, attempting to pull myself back together. It may have seemed cold, but Sam knew I needed the distraction that work provided. If left to my own devices, I'd just stay in bed and wallow. I trudged to my room and half-heartedly tried to fix my appearance. There were dark, puffy circles under my eyes, but I didn't care enough to bother with concealer. My ponytail was a bit crooked, but again, I didn't care enough to fix it. I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling like I was looking at a stranger. The only bright spot was the golden charm around my neck... the ornate 'E' with the blood drop shaped ruby dangling from the bottom. Somehow Eric had retrieved it from the penthouse of the hotel, where Felipe had ripped it from my neck, and had it fixed. He'd given it back to me that last night at Fangtasia. It hadn't left me since.

I headed out to the back door, grabbing my cranberry coat off the peg, managing to fight back another round of tears. I glanced longingly at Eric's Corvette, which had been vandalized that night at Fangtasia. He was so angry when he saw the dented hood and smashed in windshield, I was glad there was no one else nearby. As it was he'd put his fist through the back door of the club. We could only assume some Fellowship flunky had caused the damage. Eric didn't have time to get it fixed, so I offered to make sure it was taken care of, and he told me to drive it while he was away. I doubted I would, but I'd spent plenty of time the last few days just sitting in it, closing my eyes and sinking into the memories.

Sam took my hand, helping me up into his truck. I listened to the sound of the gravel driveway Eric had bought me as we pulled out, headed for Merlotte's. I wondered if a day would ever come when I could take more than a step without something setting off another torrent of tears. It was as if the whole world were mocking me, taunting me with the love I'd dreamed of for so long and finally found, only to have it snatched away. Yes, I was neck deep in a pity party, and Gran would've scolded me out of it if she were here... but she isn't. If Sam were smart he'd get as far away from me as possible. Everyone who had the misfortune of caring too much about me seemed to wind up in hot water, or worse, because of it.

We arrived at the bar, and I went through the usual motions of putting my purse in Sam's desk and tying on my apron. In truth, I'd barely worked the last few nights. Sure I was here, but I ended up spending most of my time sitting on the floor behind the bar, or curled up on the couch in the office. Everyone walked on eggshells around me, giving me pitying looks, and thinking about how I might need anti-depressants. Of course, most of them didn't know the real reasons for my current state, and just assumed I'd 'finally realized what monsters those bloodsuckers were'. I didn't have the energy to keep my shields up more than minimally, but I was so lost in my own mind that most of what I heard barely registered, becoming just a sort of white noise in the background. My head constantly ached from it.

There was, however, one person that wasn't avoiding me or showing any sympathy, and to my dismay she was working tonight. I had just joined Sam behind the bar, leaning back against the far wall, and falling into my now usual routine of staring blankly around the room.

"You actually going to do some _work_ tonight, Sookie?" Arlene spat when she came up to retrieve an order.

"Arlene..." Sam said, his tone giving an implied warning.

She narrowed her eyes, "Sam Merlotte, don't you dare get huffy with me because you've got a thing for that... that... lazy, good-for-nothing, _fangbanger whore_!"

In that split-second, all the despair and fear in me turned to rage, my fists clenching and jaw tightening. All the anger I harbored toward the Fellowship and those like them was focused on this singular target, who was now the embodiment of them all. Before I knew it I was vaulting over the bar and onto Arlene, knocking her to the ground, and waylaying her with a flurry of punches to the face. She was screaming for help, trying to cover her face, and a torrent of curse words was flying from my mouth. I'd never felt so possessed by rage and hate in my life.

It couldn't have been more than a few seconds before Sam was pulling me off her, still kicking and screaming. Arlene was hollering and crying that she'd see me arrested, blood dripping from her nose. I should be ashamed at how satisfying that was, but my vision was still red with anger. Sam dragged me into his office, telling me in a firm tone to stay put, then ran back out the bar. I didn't care that Andy Bellefleur would probably be arriving any moment to haul me off to jail. As far as I was concerned, Arlene had it coming. It was her kind of venom that was making an already desperate situation that much worse.

I flopped onto Sam's couch, my rage beginning to subside back into sadness. The tears were spilling down my cheeks, but I would not give noise to my sobs. I realized Sam would probably have no choice but to fire me, and I felt awful for that. I knew it would hurt him to do it. I clung to the charm around my neck, curling up on my side, and probed the bond for Eric. Still there...

I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes to Sam sitting beside me, stroking my hair.

"Oh, Sam... I'm so sorry," I whispered.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, "It's alright, Sookie. Hell, I wanted to punch her, too."

I gave a weak laugh, and Sam lifted my head to sit beside me, laying me back down on his lap. "It's been taken care of," he said softly.

"How?"

"I called Elana."

I nodded in understanding. The young vampire must've glamoured the appropriate parties, making them believe some other incident had taken place. I'd have to thank her later.

"Sookie..." Sam said hesitantly.

"I know... I'm fired."

"No, no, of course not. If anything I'll be firing Arlene. Listen, Sook," he continued, shifting my head a bit in his lap. "Elana... she's offered... if you want someone to talk to... well, she was a psychologist in her mortal life."

I bolted upright, "You think I need a shrink, too?"

Sam's brow furrowed, "I don't think you're crazy, Sookie. I just thought..."

"That I should be heavily medicated?" I spat.

He sighed, "Sookie, stop it. You know I don't think that. I just don't know how to help you and... frankly, you're scaring the hell out of me. I've never seen you so..."

The look in his eyes was almost desperate, and I realized just what a toll I was taking on him. He really did look frightened for me.

"Sam..." I said softly, hugging my knees up to my chest. "I'll think about it." It was a lie, but I had to try and make him feel better. It's not like I was going to go slitting my wrists or something. I'd make an effort to at least take a little bit better care of myself to ease his fears, but that was the best I could do. I wasn't about to go babbling to some stranger, a vampire no less, about my emotions and fears.

He smiled weakly, pulling me back into his arms, "Good." He held me for a few minutes, and I tried to block out the undercurrent of emotion I 'heard' running through him. I knew he'd never act on it, especially now, but part of him certainly wanted to be doing more than just holding me. In another time and place, I might have felt the same. I gently disentangled myself from his embrace, doing my best to give him a smile.

"Elana's waiting to take you home," he said, gaze fixed on mine, "Unless... you'd rather just stay with me tonight. I've got the extra bed..."

There wasn't any hint of suggestion in his tone, and I knew he just wanted to keep me close to him. I didn't relish the idea of Elana's company, knowing now that she'd probably try her psycho-babble on me, but staying with Sam was just too big a can of worms for me to deal with.

"Thanks, Sam, but I really just need my own bed."

"Okay, Sook, but promise you'll call if you need anything."

"I will," I replied, gathering myself up and retrieving my purse. I felt like I should say something more, but nothing really came to mind. I gave him another quick hug, and headed out the back door.

Elana was sitting on the hood of Bill's car. I was struck by how innocent she always looked, so petite and almost cute. She was completely non-threatening in appearance, and I often had to remind myself that she could snap me like a twig. Her mode of dress always spoke of her Cuban heritage, usually brightly colored, billowy blouses and long skirts. Her dark brown hair flowed about her shoulders, and her olive skin glowed in the moonlight. She was truly striking, and I could see why Bill enjoyed her company. I found myself hoping that he'd found some happiness without me, and that they'd be reunited when... if... this whole mess ended.

She smiled, hopping off the car as I approached, nodding a bit. "Hi, Sookie."

"Hello, Elana. Thank you for taking me home," I replied wearily, though managing a small smile.

"Hey, I should be thanking you. It's nice to have something to do..." she said softly, her accent a bit more pronounced than usual. I noticed that seemed to happen with most vampires when they were troubled. I imagined she might be just as worried about Bill and the others as I was.

"You know, Sookie..." she began as we drove back toward Hummingbird Lane.

I immediately cut her off, "Elana, Sam told me about your offer. While I'm appreciative... I'm just not really in the mood to... well, to talk about it."

She quirked a brow, laughing lightly. "Oh, Sookie... I just said that to try and calm the shifter down. Poor man's in an awful state worrying about you."

"I... ah... oh. Well... thank you, then," I said, a bit surprised.

"You're welcome. Hey, they can't possibly understand what we're going through, right? I mean, _of course_ we're upset and emotionally volatile."

I nodded quietly. Elana had to be the most human vampire I'd ever met. There was no trace of the superiority and detachment I'd grown so accustomed to from them. "What were you going to say, then?" I inquired.

She stayed silent a few moments, guiding the car into my driveway. She threw it into park, shutting down the engine, and leaned her head back against the seat. I could tell she was deep in thought, and I allowed her time to process. Bill had always been good about that, giving me space to think when I needed it.

She turned toward me, tucking one leg up underneath her, and I caught a glint of excitement in her eyes. "Sookie, I know where they're at."

I felt my eyes go wide, and I searched hers, trying to determine what she was suggesting.

"They need us, Sookie. We're the only ones with any shot at fixing this mess, and maybe... if we can..." she trailed off.

I now knew we were on the same page. She felt as useless as I had just sitting around, waiting for the worst. Sitting around was something I was never good at, but until now, I hadn't known what else to do. I'd needed an ally, someone to spur me into action, and now here she was. I had no idea what we were going to do, but I told myself we'd find a way. I'd been around Eric long enough to know we'd have to have one hell of a plan, accounting for every possible contingency. I hoped Elana had some of the vampire flare for meticulous planning. For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt a twinge of hope. It was a long shot, at best, but if we could come up with a plan...

"I'm in," I said without hesitation.

Elana grinned, and we rushed inside, eager to get down to business. As we headed for the kitchen, I couldn't help but probe the bond, trying as hard as I could to send positive thoughts to Eric. I doubted whether he could feel them specifically, but I desperately needed him to feel me.

_Hang on, my love... I'm coming._

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm going to try to get updates out at my usual pace, but with the holidays approaching, I can't promise them daily. I'll do my best, though!

Thank you, as always, for the reviews! They're better than Christmas presents ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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"Have you two lost your minds?" Amelia asked incredulously.

Amelia had been sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea, when Elana and I arrived. She'd immediately noticed my somewhat brightened mood, and I'd debated what, if anything, to tell her while I brewed myself some coffee. Amelia was always a wild card when it came to dicey situations. Sometimes she'd jump in head first, especially if she thought there was a chance for her to practice her Craft. Other times, she'd want nothing to do with it, and try to talk me out of involving myself. Considering I was practically attached at the hip to Amelia, Sam, or Claudine at all times recently, I couldn't just take off. I could've lied and said I needed to get away, but I was pretty sure Amelia would insist on coming with me. Besides, Elana and I could certainly use any help we could get.

"Sookie, you're talking about the most powerful vampires in the world... what do you think you can possibly achieve here?"

I gave an exasperated sigh. It wasn't the reaction I'd hoped for when the three of us sat down at the kitchen table, and I'd filled Amelia in on our intentions. Elana was sipping on a True Blood, staying oddly quiet thus far, as if she was merely observing.

"I don't know yet, Amelia... but I have to do something. Please... I need your help," I said, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.

Amelia eyed me, looking torn. An uncomfortable silence ensued, tension hanging in the air. She was right, of course. What could we possibly hope to accomplish here? It's not like we could just storm the tribunal and rescue them... we'd be dead before we even got near it. Even if we somehow managed to get them out, what then? Spend the rest of our lives (or deaths, as the case may be) running? Surely we couldn't just go back to the way things were. We'd be hunted down for sure. I folded my arms over the table, burying my face in them, feeling the tears threatening once again.

"We have to find the girl," Elana's voice cut through the silence, drawing both my and Amelia's attention.

"What girl?" Amelia asked.

Elana crossed one leg up underneath her, taking another sip of her True Blood. "The witness," she said, as if it should be obvious.

"Okay..." I said hesitantly, not knowing where Elana was going with this.

Amelia apparently did, her eyes widening a bit with excitement. "Find the witness... change her story..." she said in a knowing tone.

Elana nodded.

"Alright, what am I missing here?" I asked, frustrated that I wasn't catching on. "How is that going to affect anything at the tribunal? I mean, I get that it would be good for the long term if this... publicity crisis were to go away, but how is that going to get Eric and the rest off the hook?"

Elana quirked at me, seeming amused by my lack of understanding. It was a very... Pam kind of look. Guess there's a little more vampire in her than I thought.

"It's quite simple, really," said the young vampire. "We frame the Fellowship."

I scoffed at her, "Like the tribunal still won't know the truth?"

Amelia shook her head, giving me a pitying look, "Of course they will, Sookie. You're missing the point. If we can find this witness, Elana can... alter her memory of events." Amelia looked over to Elana, her voice growing more excited, "We'd need to get to some of the forensics people and law enforcement, too... possibly even plant some evidence."

Elana nodded to her, "True. We're going to need some help to get this done quickly, the tribunal's already begun."

I watched them ping pong back and forth with their conversation, adding more details and suggestions, even completing each others' sentences. They'd need Sam or Dawson to find out who the shifter mole was, and someone with police contacts, and someone who knew something about forensics. _And, and, and...._ It was like they were working with one brain. I, on the other hand, still didn't get it, which was frustrating the heck out of me. They'd take care of the public mess, but so what? Not that it wouldn't be a good thing, but I still failed to see how that would bring Eric back to me.

I smacked my hand down on the table, "Would one of you _please_ explain to me how this is going to save Eric??"

Amelia startled, knocking over her tea cup. "Dangit, Sookie!" She cut me with an annoyed glare.

"I'm sorry," I spat, getting up to grab a towel, "But apparently I'm just too stupid to get it."

Amelia sighed, taking the towel from me and wiping up the spill, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

I flopped back down in my chair, taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself. I wondered how Eric, the King of pragmatism and scheming, could have fallen for someone a dense as I seemed to be.

"Sookie," Elana said gently, "I apologize, sometimes I get a bit carried away." She got up, refilling my coffee for me, and grabbing herself another bottle of True Blood.

"It's okay," I replied, recognizing the rarity of apologies from vampires.

She smiled, continuing, "Okay, let me explain. If we manage to pull this off, making it look like the Fellowship staged this whole thing in another one of their attempts to destroy us, the tribunal will have to allow Eric and the rest to return to Louisiana."

"Right, because how would it look if they didn't?" Amelia chimed in.

"Exactly," Elana said. "Think about it, Sookie. If the vampires weren't responsible, and indeed the hate group dedicated to their destruction was, why would they stay in hiding? Don't you think the public would notice if, say... Fangtasia remained closed? The AVL would be all over it, needing the 'victim vampires' to talk to the press. It would be the perfect opportunity to put an end to the Fellowship... or at least drive them back underground. Hell, it might be just the push needed to get our rights put on par with humans! That would _have_ to trump any punishment the Council decided on... Eric, Pam, and Bill would be set up as the 'poster children' for vampire rights!"

I blinked, trying to absorb the barrage of information Elana was throwing at me. Could she be right? Amelia was certainly nodding emphatically in agreement with her. It sure sounded good, but part of me couldn't help being skeptical. It seemed like an awful lot to hope for. However, it was certainly a better plan than trying to just outright rescue our friends, which I'd pretty much ruled out at this point, anyway.

"Do you really think we can do this? Do we have enough time?" I asked.

Elana furrowed her brow, "I'm not saying it will be easy, but do you have any better ideas?"

No... I certainly didn't. This plan at least sounded... plausible. I wondered what Eric would think of it. Was this an idea he might come up with himself?

"Well?" Amelia prodded.

"You two seem pretty confident," I commented.

Elana laughed, "Hardly. It's about a snowball's chance in Hell that we can pull this off, but I'd rather try than sit by and just let them all die."

I gaped at her.

"Come on, Sookie... did you really think the Council would even consider letting them go?" Elana admonished.

I swallowed hard. I'd been doing my best to avoid thinking about the inevitable consequences, but inside, I knew she was right. I had to push those thoughts away, though, or I'd never be able to focus on the task at hand. This was our best shot, and I'd have to keep myself together if we had any hope of succeeding.

"Alright," I said, "What's the first step?"

~*~*~

It was nearly four in the morning by the time we'd finished out our initial planning. We'd gone back and forth over a lot of issues, debating the best angles for every aspect of our scheme. I kept hearing Eric in the back of my mind, asking me if I'd thought of every contingency. I could only hope we had. Amelia and I decided we'd get a few hours of sleep before setting out on our individual assignments. Elana, of course, would have to wait till dark to take care of her end.

I was still hyped up with adrenaline and caffeine when I crawled into bed, unsure if I could manage to sleep at all. I'd been like a zombie for days, and was finally feeling some semblance of myself returning. The road ahead would be frightening, but it was so much brighter than the one I'd been facing mere hours ago.

I curled up on my side, inhaling the scent of Eric's t-shirt I'd been wearing to sleep in. It somehow made me feel closer to him, like his arms were around me. Closing my eyes I reached out into our bond, willing it to open. He was there... maybe reaching out the same way I was. My body ached for him... to hear his voice... to feel the caress of his lips... his hand brushing the hair from my eyes...

_"I'm here, Sookie..."_

_"Eric?"_

_"Yes, lover."_

_"Am I dreaming?"_

_"Does it matter?"_

_"No... Eric, I'm so scared."_

He curled up behind me, wrapping me into his strong embrace, pulling my back against his chest.

_"Be strong for me, lover."_

_"I'm trying..."_

His fingertips ran down the outside of my arm... over my hip... down my thigh. I shivered.

_"Sookie... I need you to remember..."_

_"Let's not talk, Eric... just make love to me..."_

_"Please, lover... you must remember..."_

_"I don't know what you mean... remember what?"_

I turned, needing nothing more than to look into his eyes and capture his kiss. This was my dream, and I intended to get the most out of it. But, instead of my beautiful Viking, all I could see was darkness. I reached out, desperately grabbing for him...

_"Eric! Eric, where are you?"_

I was gripped by a sudden jolt of fear. There was something there, glowing in the darkness, coming closer. I tried to run, but my body wouldn't move. I tried to scream, but no sound came. There was a face... featureless... except for the glowing, solid green eyes. They were staring into me, like they could see straight through me. A searing pain stabbed through my head... I felt like my brain might explode at any moment....

And I woke up.

My heart was racing, my breathing shallow and rapid, and I was shaking like crazy. I cursed under my breath, angry that I couldn't even lose myself in a good dream. Stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom, I splashed some cold water on my face, attempting to calm my body. I looked into the mirror, intently studying my face.

Was it just a nightmare, or was my subconscious trying to tell me something? I'd read a book about dreams once, and it claimed every dream had a meaning. Could I take this one literally? Was there some important thing I'd forgotten? I looked harder into my own eyes.

"Think, Sookie... what could you be wanting to remember?" I asked myself out loud.

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but after about ten minutes of racking my brain, nothing came. I sighed, and trudged back to bed, hoping I could catch at least a bit more sleep. Guess it was just a crazy dream.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry this is going out so late in the evening, but this one took awhile. Curve ball, anyone? ;)

As always, thanks for the reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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"Sookie... Sookie wake up."

I swatted at the hand shaking my shoulder.

"Sookie, wake up!" the shaking grew more vigorous.

I rolled over on my side, groaning, "Just five more minutes, Eric..."

Wait... _Eric??_

I shot straight up, my eyes flying open, but it was still dark. I rubbed at them, trying to focus, searching the darkness. For a moment I thought I was dreaming again, but then I felt it... or rather him. The bond... emotions...

"Eric?" I whispered, afraid my mind was playing tricks on me.

His cool hands cupped my face, thumbs gently brushing across my cheeks. "Sookie..."

"Oh my God... Eric..." I breathed, throwing my arms around him. "It was just a nightmare... you're really here..."

My Viking pulled me in close, one hand softly caressing my hair. I clung desperately to him, "Eric, it was so horrible... there was a tribunal... and I thought I'd lost you forever..."

"Sookie," he said firmly, pulling back to return his gaze to mine. "Sookie, how did you get here?"

I blinked at him, "Uhh... I live here?"

Eric arched a brow at me, "Sookie, we are not in Bon Temps. We're not even in the United States. So I'll ask again, _how_ did you get here?"

"Eric, please don't tease me," I admonished, dropping my hands from his hair. They landed on a cold, hard surface. This isn't my bed...

Slowly, hesitantly, I turned my head. My vision had adjusted a bit to the dark, and I could see enough to realize this was definitely not my bedroom. There were no windows, only walls that looked like cinder block. I seemed to be sitting on some sort of metal table or counter. My breath hitched in my throat, and Eric pulled me back into his embrace.

"You have no idea how you got here, or where we are, do you?" he said softly, probably sensing my confusion through our bond.

I just shook my head against his shoulder. At the moment, I hardly cared about the answers. His arms were around me... we were together... he was still on this Earth. I felt a myriad of emotions pouring from him through the bond, so many simultaneously I couldn't begin to pick through them. I may have been feeling nothing short of bliss, but Eric, was in absolute turmoil.

"I have to find a way to get you out of here, Sookie. Do you have your cell phone?" he asked, a definite edge in his voice.

A quick pat down of myself told me I was still only wearing Eric's t-shirt and my sleep bottoms. "No. Eric, what's going on? Where are we?"

"Romania," he said, getting up and moving to the door, staring at it like it was some sort of puzzle.

"As in the country?" I gasped, quickly joining him by the door.

He held a finger to my lips, "Sookie, be quiet."

I might've snapped at him under other circumstances, but the growing fear I felt through the bond told me to obey, and I nodded in understanding. I watched him tentatively extend a finger to the door, which I noticed had no handle. There was a sizzle and a tiny waft of smoke when his skin made contact, causing him to quickly withdraw.

"Oh God..." I whispered.

He ran his other hand through his hair, "The whole room... there are silver bars behind the cinder block."

"We... we're in a prison?" I croaked.

"More like a holding cell. My trial begins tonight."

I felt my knees going slack, and Eric quickly caught me, depositing me back on the metal counter. "So... it wasn't a nightmare... the tribunal..." I whispered.

He only nodded. It was then I noticed just how pale he was. He looked worn... gaunt, even. "Eric... you haven't fed..."

I immediately raised my wrist to his lips. He glanced over at me for just a moment, but he was in no position to refuse. I wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd had blood, but he wasn't fighting for control over himself the way Bill did. I didn't know if that meant it hadn't been too long, or if it was his age that allowed him to go much longer without sustenance. Given his appearance, I was guessing the latter. He gently grasped my arm, his fangs penetrating my flesh. It stung a little, and he drank more deeply than I'd felt from him before, but he still took far less blood from me than Bill would have.

"Thank you, Sookie," he said in that husky voice, licking my wounds closed. The wave of lust that shot through the bond was undeniable, and I felt both of us fight to tamp it down. Now was definitely not the time.

Before either of us could speak again, there was a sound of metal clinking outside the door. Eric was up like a shot, pushing me behind him. I felt his whole body tense and knew he was preparing to fight his way out. I shut my eyes, pressing myself against his back. Was this going to be it? Would we both die right here in this cold cell? The door swung open. I held my breath.

A deep, gruff voice said something in a language I couldn't understand. Eric kept me tucked behind him, responding to our captor in, what I could only assume, was the same language. Great, just great. They could be discussing the weather or our impending torture for all I knew. It was another vampire, of course, so I couldn't even try to gauge his emotions with my gift. There were a few more lines exchanged between them, and Eric didn't seem to be getting any more or any less tense.

"Come, Sookie," he then said softly, tucking me against his side.

We were walking down a long, narrow corridor, following the dark-haired vampire. He was tall, though still a few inches shorter than Eric, and dressed all in black. There was some sort of crossbow slung over his shoulder, and I noticed its ammunition was wooden. Lovely. I tried to look up at Eric for any sign of reassurance, but his eyes were too busy darting around, probably scanning for any signs of danger. I hadn't had time to consider much of the predicament we were in, much less how the heck I'd wound up here. The last thing I knew I was falling asleep after that crazy nightmare...

We rounded a corner, headed up some steps, and were walking across an outdoor courtyard. I realized we had been underground. The wind was biting and chilly, made worse by my thin pajamas. I huddled deeper into Eric, even though he didn't really provide any warmth. I felt him trying to soothe me through the bond, despite his own tension.

A few minutes later we finally arrived at another building. It looked like some sort of giant, concrete bunker, with no windows and only one set of doors that I could see. The vampire in black held the doors open for us, and fell back in step behind us after we'd entered. Eric seemed like he knew where he was going, and for some reason that comforted me a bit. I ventured a small look around. The interior was just as sparse as the exterior. It reminded me of some super secret government spy building you'd see in the movies.

We came to a set of double doors, benches lining the walls just outside. The other vampire knocked, and I vaguely heard someone respond from inside. Our escort swung the doors open, and I steeled myself against Eric. His grip tightened around my shoulders, and we proceeded. I half expected to hear a voice call out 'Dead Man Walking'.

The room we entered was completely different than the starkness of the rest of the building. It was paneled in a rich, mahogany wood. The matching wood floor was covered with a large, oriental style rug. All the furnishings looked old, and very expensive, sort of a mish mosh of styles. The focal point was a floor to ceiling, stone fireplace, with a large desk in front. Okay... a judge's chamber, maybe?

The doors closed behind us, and I realized we were alone. Eric leaned down to me, grasping both my shoulders with his hands. His eyes fixed on mine, a look of seriousness I'd never seen.

"Sookie, listen to me, and do not argue. Do not speak unless you are asked a direct question, and then, answer as briefly as possible. Keep your eyes down at all times. You _must not_ cry, under any circumstances. Do your best to follow my lead. Do you understand me?"

Eric's tone let me know this was not the time to do anything other than follow instructions. I nodded, doing my best to calm my trembling hands.

"Good girl," he said, and placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

A door at the side of the room opened, and Eric looked up for a split second. I immediately felt him tug at my hand and we were on our knees, heads bowed, as a... presence... entered the room. I felt a power like I'd never experienced fill the room. It was overwhelming, nearly sucking the air from my lungs. Only the 'void' told me this was, indeed, a vampire. _Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea_...

"My Lord," Eric spoke low and reverently. I remembered his words to me and said nothing, though I'm not sure I could've, even if I'd wanted to. I kept my eyes glued to a spot on the rug.

After a few moments of silence, I began to suspect any conversation was occurring between them by means of their vampire telepathy. I tried to keep my breathing as quiet as possible, willing my hands to stop shaking. Every second became more agonizing than the last. I dared not try and probe the bond, and it seemed as though Eric was somehow shielding me from his emotions. I hadn't realized that was even possible, but I wished like hell that he would cut it out. If he felt it necessary to 'block' me... that could not be good.

This is it, we're going to die. I can't believe I'm still breathing at all. If this vampire 'lord' doesn't kill me, this terror probably will. How did this happen? What horrible being or power sent me here? I'd had a plan, dammit! I was going to save Eric and Pam and Bill... and everything would go back to normal. Now it would be impossible. Why... why bring me here? Who hated us this much? Was this revenge?

My head was beginning to ache. My fists were clenching, jaw tightening... why do I feel so angry? Because I'm being robbed, that's why... robbed of Eric... robbed of happiness... robbed of life. We'd had so little time... Hallow's curse had brought us together... brought us to the brink... then stolen it away. Dammit, Sookie, why didn't you just pursue him when he couldn't remember... why didn't you just tell him! I wasted so much time with my stupid pride... and fear. I'd been afraid. I didn't think Eric would or could love me once he'd gotten his memory back... or maybe I was just afraid to let him.

The ache in my brain began to sear into the back of my eyes... what is this? I've felt this before... I know I have. I looked down at my fists, clenched so tight my knuckles were white. Eric was staring at me now, I could feel it, but I couldn't look back. I think I heard him say my name. Why is it getting so bright in here?

I'm doubling over onto the floor... Eric is moving to catch me. What happened to his vampire speed? He's moving so slow... wait... everything is slow. God that light, it's so bright! I squint against it as it grows... I realize it's coming from me... from my clenched fists... I hear a whisper coming from somewhere...

"_Sibyl..."_

My eyes are flying open... the guard is leveling his crossbow at Eric... oh God, the stake! I hear a shriek coming from my throat... I'm diving in front of Eric... I'm faster than they are... the light explodes from me... engulfing everything....

.

.

The pain is gone, the light dimmed. I'm back on my knees... and I slowly open my eyes...

I'm in my kitchen, knelt on the floor... there's a pan of water in front of me and a rag in my hands. The water is slightly tinged with red.

"S... Sookie?" I hear Eric's ragged voice.

I look up. He's seated on the chair in front of me, wearing only a pair of red, bikini briefs. My white afghan is wrapped around his shoulders.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to the astute readers who pointed out my 'oops' in the spelling of Sibyl from the last chapter. Thank goodness you guys are paying attention! I assure you, Sookie is NOT a 'Sybil' with dissociative identity disorder (although, that certainly would explain a lot...). Chalk it up to a minor brain misfire.

I want to remind everyone, if you haven't read Dead to Rights, I really suggest doing so (or at the very least, chapter 16 from it). This chapter is going to confuse you a lot if you haven't.

Thank you so much for the reviews; the ones after last chapter had me positively giddy. I love that you're all enjoying the twists and turns of my warped mind. Don't fret, I promise it'll all make sense soon enough!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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The rag slipped from my fingers, causing a small splash across Eric's bare legs when it landed in the pan of water. I looked down at his feet. They were covered in small cuts. Casting my eyes down my body, I saw I was clothed in the Merlotte's winter uniform. This led my gaze to the kitchen floor... my old kitchen floor... from before the fire. I blinked a few times. _Am I dead?_

"Sookie?" Eric said again, sounding as overwhelmed as I was.

I raised my eyes back to him, a thought occurring to me, "You know who I am?"

He nodded, the look on his face making it clear he was thinking along the same lines. "Yes, and I know who I am."

"But this..." I gestured to him, myself, and around the room.

"It certainly seems to be..." he replied hesitantly.

We didn't move, just staring at each other for a few minutes. I don't think he had any more idea what to make of this than I did. The confusion we were both feeling merely amplified each others' through the bond. Another difference...

"We're still bound," I remarked.

"Indeed," he said, standing up and plucking something from my counter, "Though, if this can be believed, we should not be."

He was holding out my word of the day calendar. I was almost afraid to look, but rose slowly to my feet, stepping beside him. I glanced nervously at the calendar in his hand... New Year's Eve... two years ago.

Eric set the calendar back down and went over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of True Blood and popping it in the microwave. The afghan slipped from his shoulders, not that he seemed to care, and I couldn't help ogling his perfect backside. He felt me watching him, I'm sure, and I just knew he had that smirk on his face. The last time he'd been in this state, he'd seemed more like a lost puppy dog. Not once had he leered at me, or made even the slightest innuendo. Now he was leaning his weight a bit onto his arms over the counter, causing the muscles in his back to ripple, and making my favorite of his body parts present more fully. Oh yeah, this was definitely compos mentis Eric.

He pulled the bottle from the microwave, turning back toward me and leaning against the counter, one foot crossing over the other. I absently licked my bottom lip, unable to stop staring.

"Lover, I would enjoy nothing more than to relive our time in your shower," he smoldered, "But, I do believe we have more pressing matters at hand."

It took me a moment to snap back to my senses. "I'm not the one... casually standing around with a drink... like it's just some typical Friday night," I said a bit sharply.

He smirked at me, "It does not appear we are in any immediate danger, and I think better when I am relaxed."

Well... huh. I guess that sorta makes sense. I see he's lost none of his pragmatism, either. Shrugging, I grabbed a diet soda from the fridge and popped the top. Eric smiled, raising his bottle toward me in a sort of cheers-like gesture, and we both took a swig. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be on drugs? I mean, things felt far too... normal for how abnormal they were.

Eric pushed off the counter and grabbed my hand, leading me into the living room. He sprawled out, taking up nearly the full length of my sofa, and guided me down to nestle between his legs, my head on his chest. Pulling the old quilt from the back of the sofa to wrap around us, he crinkled his nose.

"This thing is still hideous."

I couldn't help but laugh. This was, without a doubt, the most bizarre situation I had ever encountered, and that's saying a heck of a lot. I tried to replay all the events of the last... well, hell, I didn't even know how much time had passed. Did the last two years even happen? I still had memories of it... the witch war, the Were war, the bombing in Rhodes... all of it.

I snapped my head up to look in Eric's eyes, "Rhodes... Sophie-Anne..." I gasped.

He shook his head, softly running his fingers through my hair, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, lover. We don't even know if this is real..."

He was right, of course, but it was difficult to stop my brain from flying through all the scenarios that could be changed if this, indeed, were real. Eric was pouring waves of calm at me through the bond, and I tried to stop the wheels of my mind from spinning. He smiled at me, those gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with warmth. I began to relax, laying my cheek against his chest, feeling the familiar rumble coming from him.

"That's my girl," he said softly, continuing to stroke my hair.

I nuzzled my cheek against him, allowing myself a few moments to simply enjoy this. After all the emotional turmoil we'd been through recently, I think he needed this as much as I did. Things were certainly far from over, it seemed to me... or maybe...

"Eric?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, lover?"

"Do you think... are we... dead?"

That got a hearty chuckle out of him, and I immediately felt stupid. "You know what I mean," I said, swatting his arm.

He snugged me up tighter against him, "Well, your heart is still beating... you're still breathing..."

"True enough," I replied. "Do you think we're dreaming?"

"Vampires do not dream," he said, nipping that thought in the bud. "Not to mention it was nowhere near dawn when we... left." He paused a few moments, and I could feel him trying to sort through his thoughts. "Sookie, tell me what happened before you appeared in my cell."

"Well, let's see..." I said, organizing my own thoughts. "Amelia, Elana and I had an all night planning session to figure out how to come save all of you."

I felt him quirk a bit beneath me, "Oh? And what did that beautiful mind of yours come up with?" he mused.

I sighed, "Well, it wasn't really my idea... in fact..."

I proceeded to fill Eric in on the entire plan, and how I hadn't gotten it at first. I told him how upset and frustrated I'd been that I didn't have his flare for planning and deviousness. That made him roar with laughter, which made me a little pouty.

"You will learn, in time, lover," he murmured, his hand caressing down my back, making me instantly forget being upset. "So what happened after you three vixens developed this devious plot?"

"Well, I went to bed and had that awful nightmare."

He put a finger beneath my chin, tilting my gaze back up to him, "What nightmare?"

"It started as a good dream, actually. I felt you with me, holding me... caressing me," I sighed wistfully. "But then you kept telling me I needed to remember something, and I didn't know what you were talking about. Then you weren't there anymore... and there was this... face, only it was blank. Like it had no nose, no chin... but it did have eyes. Only, they were weird... bright green and glowing, with no whites or pupils. They kept coming closer and closer... and it made my head hurt, like my brain might explode, but I woke up before it did." I took a deep breath, realizing I'd been rambling.

"And then what, you went back to sleep?" Eric asked.

I nodded, "After splashing some water on my face and trying to figure out what I was supposed to be remembering..."

_Oh God..._

Eric pulled me up into a sitting position, sensing me stiffen as the proverbial light-bulb flicked on. His hands gently grasped my shoulders, and he held me with his eyes, willing me to remain calm. "What is it, Sookie? What did you remember?"

I had a sudden flash of memory... the night Bill had risen from his injuries. He... attacked me?? And then... then... _ugh, think, Sookie!_ I put my palms to my forehead, sort of smacking myself, like I could somehow shake the memory loose...

Eric took my hands in his, holding them still, "Take your time, Sookie. Just relax... I have you."

I looked up at him in desperation, "It's there... it's right there... I can feel it... but I can't reach it." Tears were pricking at my eyes.

He regarded me a few moments, trying to feed me his strength through the bond. I felt like I was drowning, and there was a life preserver just out of reach. Why can't I remember?? I suddenly felt a whole new empathy for how it must've been for Eric when he was cursed. There was this... hole in my mind that I just couldn't access. I could see it, but I had no way to fill it in... it was almost like...

"Glamour..." I whispered.

Eric arched a brow at me, "What about it?"

"The gap in my memory... it's like the hole left by glamour that I feel when I read affected minds... but how can that be? We know it doesn't work on me..."

Eric looked totally perplexed. He caught my eyes with his own, and I felt the little tweaks of power. He was testing, and I shook my head, indicating it wasn't working. He nodded, and pulled me back into his arms, "Alright, let's come at this from a different angle, lover. What happened in Romania?"

I sighed, closing my eyes and trying to focus, spilling my memories out to Eric as they came to me. We were kneeling... I couldn't feel him through the bond. He confirmed he'd been blocking himself off from it, and I stopped myself from going on that tangent. Not important right now. I'd gotten... angry... then the pain in my head...

"Like in your dream?" Eric asked.

I paused. Yes. Exactly like that. Then... the voice...

"Sibyl..." I whispered, almost inaudibly.

Eric pushed me back, his eyes wide. "What about _her_?"

I shuddered from the dangerous tone in Eric's voice, "That... that's what he called me."

"Who?" Eric demanded.

"... Victor ..."

And just like that, the hole was filled.

I recounted for Eric every detail I could remember after Bill had risen. How he said I smelled so much like Eric he'd think I was him... how I'd rendered him unconscious and immobile with my kick... how everything had gotten so slow, just like in Romania. I told him how Victor appeared... and he'd had those eyes! He'd assaulted my mind, and accused me of being a masochist for not responding. He'd called me a mutt and a Sibyl... and made mention of Amun. He said it was too soon for... something, and that I wasn't ready. He'd confused the hell out of me... and there was that horrible flash of light, and then... I'd forgotten it all.

But there was one more detail...

"Eric, he called you... or rather our bond... a wrinkle. He didn't like it... but said in the long run it might prove... useful. He said he should have killed you that night you were cursed and running down the road..."

We both stared at each other. That night... was this night.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Well, it's late in the evening, but I managed to get out the daily update. I apologize for the hour, it was a very full day for me. I proofed this as best I could, but my eyes are a bit bleary, so please forgive me any grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy! *braces for the cliffhanger lynch mob... lol*

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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So, in the movies, this would be the part where the scary music begins to get louder. The camera would jump back and forth between the virginal blond and various doors. You just knew the killer was gonna pop out of that closet at any moment, and you couldn't stop yourself from screaming at the dumb heroine to get out of the house.

Luckily, this isn't the movies. Victor did not come leaping out at us in some apropos, cinematic climax to our realization. Everything was quiet and still, and after a few moments, I relaxed back into Eric's arms.

"I suppose he decided I am still... beneficial," Eric smirked.

"Nah, he probably just got held up on I-20," I quipped, forcing myself to find the humor in this insane situation.

Eric placed his hands on my cheeks, tilting my head up. His eyes were scanning my face, studying me intently. I began to squirm under the weight of his stare.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Lover, I fear we have entered the Twilight Zone. You are not crying," he grinned.

I groaned, burying my face back into his chest, but couldn't help giggling, "Damn vampires."

"Irritating telepaths," he chided, snuggling me deeper into his arms.

We settled into a comfortable silence. The way Eric stroked my hair was almost hypnotic, and I felt myself drifting into that state somewhere between being awake and asleep. _I could stay here like this forever_, I thought. Questions tried to nag the back of my mind, but I shoved them away. I should be frantic, I should be running about like a chicken with no head trying to figure all this out... but right now... I just don't care. The rumbling in Eric's chest seemed to echo my thoughts.

His fingertips caressed idly up and down my back beneath my shirt, each hand moving in opposing directions, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. I curled my fingers into his chest hair, making tiny swirling patterns across his skin, and placed a gentle kiss over his non-beating heart. The rumbling in his chest grew slightly louder, the vibrations as soothing as a purring kitten, despite him being more comparable to a sleeping lion.

We drifted together on a sea of contentment, waves of calm washing through the bond, cradling us into its cocoon. The world around us was still, soundless, not even a whisper of wind. It was as if the universe were granting us a gift, allowing us a few, precious moments of peace.

"It's so quiet..." I murmured.

Eric cupped the back of my head, his other arm encircling my lower back, cradling me against him. "We are paused at the crossroads."

"You mean, like, metaphorically?"

"The moon has not moved in the sky," he said softly. There was something haunting... and almost wistful in his tone. I felt no fear or tension from him, but rather a tug of longing. I tilted my head up, catching a far away look in his eyes before he smiled down at me. "She will be calling soon."

"She?" I said, tensing a little.

He brushed the hair from my eyes, "There is nothing to fear, Dear One. Come," he said, shifting me up to a sitting position in his lap, "We need to get ready."

I stared at him, more than a little confused, and expecting a lot more of an explanation.

Eric sighed softly, "Lover, will you ever just trust me?"

I heard the pain in his voice, and felt it through the bond. For a moment I felt guilty, but my old frustrations were rearing their ugly head. Why was I always expected to just blindly follow along?

"Eric, of course I trust you. I just... I don't understand why you can't explain things to me, sometimes. Everyone is always so cryptic with me... it makes me feel... dumb. Do you think I'm incapable of understanding?" I asked, surprised at the calmness in my tone.

"Oh, Sookie," he said gently, keeping me cuddled in his lap, "Nothing could be further from the truth. Let me ask you something. When your Gran told you as a child not to go too near the hot stove, did you listen?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Yes, I know... crazy Sookie... always running into danger. What's your point?"

Eric shook his head, and I felt him trying to stave off his rising annoyance. "You always think you know, don't you? You're always right. My thousand years of experience is nothing compared to all the wisdom you've gained in your twenty-eight years."

Ugh, there he goes, pulling the age card. "I hate when you do that. That's exactly what I mean when I say you make me feel dumb."

He growled a bit, plucking me from his lap and sitting me back on the couch, coming down on his haunches in front of me to catch my eyes. "Sookie, you are going to let me finish and stop assuming you already know what I am going to say. I _should_ have earned more respect from you by now than to be constantly interrupted by your childish indignation."

Well, that effectively shut me up. Here I was, arguing about being treated like a child, and he'd made me feel like just that. What's worse is... he's right. I would never have treated my Gran with such disrespect, and certainly I had the same level of respect, though in a different way, for Eric. He _had_ earned it... multiple times over. I looked down, feeling shamed by my behavior and the scolding, but Eric quickly tilted my head back up.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered.

Surprisingly, he kissed my cheek and smiled, "I know. However," he said, rising and extending a hand to me, "Now that you have thoroughly wasted time on a tantrum, you will just have to wait for those answers you're demanding. We need to get to Shreveport."

I tensed for just a moment, but forced myself to swallow down my natural reaction, earning me another smile from my Viking. I took his hand, following him to the back door. He made a little 'gack' type noise upon seeing my old, pre-Debbie Pelt coat hanging on the peg, and I giggled. He reluctantly slipped it over my shoulders.

"Um, Eric? Are you gonna go out in nothing but your skivvies? Not that I'm complaining..."

He gave me his glorious laugh, "Trust me, lover, it won't matter."

I arched a brow at him, but it was only a few moments after stepping outside that I understood what he meant. Eric's comment about the moon wasn't just poetic. I squinted, unsure at first that what I was seeing was real. There was a leaf hanging in mid-air, looking like it had stopped halfway on its fall from a tree. The grass was bent sideways, as it would in the wind, but there wasn't the slightest breeze. Everything literally looked frozen in time.

I turned, wide-eyed, to Eric.

He chuckled, "Don't look at me, lover. I'm not the one who caused a ball of light to explode from my hands."

"Wh... what?" I gasped. "You can't be serious. _I_ caused this?"

He pondered a moment. "To be honest, I am not entirely certain. Call it... an educated guess."

I stood there, gaping at him, wondering if he'd lost his mind again. Eric had turned his attention to my car, which was of course my old car, before the Malibu I'd gotten from Tara. He kicked at the tires (why do men always do that?) and grumbled. "Keys?" he asked.

"Huh?" I asked, still stunned from the implication I'd... stopped the world. Not just stopped it, but spun it backward two years, and _then_ stopped it. The absolute lunacy of that idea broke me out of my reverie, and I dug in my coat pocket, tossing Eric my car keys.

After we were seated inside I looked over at him, "Will it even... move?"

"Only one way to find out," he said, turning the ignition over, and grinning when the engine roared to life.

If I wasn't scared enough of Eric's driving under normal circumstances, I was downright terrified of it when there was no moving traffic or stoplights to slow him down. He zipped in between the paused cars on the road like they were mere construction cones, or some bizarre obstacle course. He was grinning from ear to ear, whooping and hollering like a kid on Christmas morning. My knuckles were white from gripping the overhead handle, and I stopped screaming at him when it only made him take turns faster. His only regret was that we weren't in his Corvette, and he told me again how he was going to buy me a new car. I was too busy praying to argue.

I don't think it was more than twenty minutes before we were in Shreveport, pulling into the Fangtasia parking lot. Eric was, what I could only describe as positively giddy, when he opened my door and took my hand. "Come along, lover."

I just shook my head confusedly, following along. He had seemed to get happier and happier by the minute driving here, and now was absolutely beaming. I felt little sparks of anticipation, the good kind, crackling through the bond. I'd swear that any minute I'd be following behind six foot, five inches of merrily skipping Viking.

As if things weren't strange enough, the inside of Fangtasia was downright bizarre. We weaved our way through the crowd of frozen fangbangers and vampires, Eric telling me to be careful not to touch anyone, though who knows why. They may as well have been statues for all I could tell. Into Eric's office we went, encountering a very frozen Chow and Pam, who looked like they were in the middle of an argument. This must not be long after Chow set off the 'booby-trapped' witch...

Then Eric did something I don't think I will ever erase from my mind. He walked right up in front of stone-still Pam... and stuck his tongue out at her. I wasn't sure whether to fall over laughing or call the men in white coats.

"Eric, what on Earth is with you?" I laughed.

He just smirked at me, yanking me over to the trap door closet, and down the stairs. The last time I'd been down here was the night before Eric left for the tribunal. I licked my lips, remembering the rather adult version of Marco Polo he'd teased me with.

"Lover, stop that or I'll have you face down on my bed and begging," he growled.

"And that is supposed to discourage me how?" I grinned.

He snorted, flipping on the light when we reached the bottom of the stairs. The room wasn't terribly large, but it was as swank as anything I'd expect with Eric. The color scheme mimicked the black and red of the upstairs, furnished in a sort of minimalist, modern style. Complete with a luxurious California King, lavish seating area, pool table and a bar, it could only be described as a lair of seduction.

"Eric, do you actually live here?"

He chuckled, "Certainly not."

"Oh," I said, shuffling my feet a bit. "Will I ever get to see your home?"

Eric paused his task of gathering clothes from a bureau, smiling up at me, "Of course you will, lover. I was actually hoping you would consider..." he trailed off for a moment, and I leaned forward a bit with anticipation. He eyed me with an unreadable expression, then turned his attention back to the open drawer. "We'll discuss that at a better time."

I pursed my lips, blowing out a little puff of air. So much had happened between Eric and I since the night of the ball, but we'd had no time to really discuss anything. The night he took me from the hospital we'd renewed our bond without a word. Something deep inside had compelled me to do it, and I had no shred of doubt or regret over it. It just... felt right. Well, that's an understatement really, but my word of the day calendar has never provided me the vocabulary to come anywhere close to describing the experience.

I leaned back against the wall, needing it to support my weakening knees, as I watched him slip off the red bikini briefs. "Eric..." I whimpered.

He had picked up a pair of jeans, pausing when he felt my wave of lust, flicking his gaze up to me, "Yes, lover?" Oh yes, it was _that_ voice.

Eric glided in front of me, casually placing both hands against the wall to either side, and pressing one leg between mine so I was straddling his lower thigh. His golden hair was perfectly tousled, cascading around his bare shoulders, all the muscles in his chest tightening as he leaned his weight further into his arms. My breathing was already growing ragged as he lowered his head, taking an agonizingly slow lick along my neck, just below my ear. His lips narrowed like one would to whistle, only he inhaled, causing the moistened spot on my skin to cool, sending a wave of shivering through me. Then his mouth opened, exhaling with a blast of hot air over the same spot, and he sucked my flesh between his lips. My knees instantly gave out, and his thigh was now the only thing preventing me from crumpling to the floor.

"Lover," he murmured next to my ear, "How is it that I have been mostly to completely naked this entire night, yet you are still wearing that hideous uniform?"

I was about to rectify that situation, grasping the bottom of my shirt and lifting upwards, when a thrust of... something came through the bond, nearly knocking the wind right out of me. At the same time, Eric's head snapped up, his eyes glazing over. The sensation was overwhelming... dizzying. It was pulling at me... as if there were a giant magnet somewhere nearby and my body had turned to metal.

"Eric?" I croaked out, gasping for breath.

He looked back down to me after a moment, a child-like smile on his face, "She's calling."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I apologize it took me a bit longer than usual to get this chapter out, but I've been inundated with family and holiday things. I will try to get another one out tomorrow, but it most likely will not be till the 26th.

I have to send an enormous thank you out to Morgaine from the TB Wiki for her invaluable help with all the research that was required for this and future chapters. Left For Dead would not have happened without her.

Thank you once again for all the wonderful (and often laughter-inducing) reviews. You all continue to inspire me.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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I clutched at my chest, trying to regain my breath, the overwhelming 'pull' I was feeling beginning to subside. I looked up into Eric's eyes, trying to convey my desperation for some explanation, though I dared not give voice to it. He was still beaming with a look of pure... joy. I simply couldn't bring myself to rob him of whatever he was feeling, despite my agonizing need for answers. If he wasn't afraid, I supposed there was no reason for me to be, and it was certainly rare to see (and feel) such uninhibited happiness from him.

His hands grasped my shoulders, steadying me, making sure I had my knees back under me. Moving too quickly for me to follow, he was soon completely dressed in jeans, a simple black tee, and his heavy black boots. He smiled at me as he reached to pluck a belt from the top of the bureau. I noticed this buckle, like all his others, was very ornate. Studying it, the circular design appeared to be that of a snake eating its own tail.

"It is Jörmungandr," he said, apparently noticing my interest.

I glanced at him, the foreign word having no meaning for me.

"Ah," he paused, seeming to search his memory for a moment. "You probably know it as the Ouroboros."

That word rang a bell. I asked Amelia once to give me a brief overview of her beliefs, figuring I ought to know more about my magick working housemate. She spoke of the Goddess and the cyclical nature of the universe, and how She was often represented as a dragon or a serpent.

Eric smiled as he finished buckling his belt and held his hand out to me, "Ready, lover?"

"Umm... I guess so?" I said, having no idea what it is I was supposed to be ready for. Confusion might as well be my middle name at this point, so I just took Eric's hand, following him back up the stairs.

"Oh!" I gasped as we entered the office.

Pam and Chow were gone. Eric gave my hand a little squeeze, sending waves of calm through the bond, but I did catch a hint of his own surprise. We continued out of the office and down the hallway to the bar, pausing in the doorway. It was also empty of its previous occupants. The lights were dim, and a chill ran through me from the silence. The stillness of the atmosphere somehow seemed to vibrate now, like gentle undercurrents of energy, or maybe magick, were brushing across my skin. I watched as Eric inhaled, taking in the scents of the air around us. His grin grew even wider, and I was overcome with another rush of joy through the bond.

"Come out, come out," he called.

"There's just no hiding from you, is there?" replied a lilting female voice.

I couldn't help but inhale at the sight of her as she floated out from the shadows. I could tell you how she had thick, luxurious hair the color of light milk chocolate, cascading in long waves to brush her hips. I could describe the ice blue of her eyes that rivaled Eric's in their brilliance. I could mention her tall, curvaceous form and how it reminded me of the women in Botticelli's paintings. Yes, I could say all that, but it could not begin to convey the ethereal beauty of this woman, cloaked in flowing, emerald green robes. Even Claudine paled by comparison.

"Rachal!" Eric beamed, dropping my hand and running to embrace her.

I admit it... I was probably as green as her robes from the jealousy that flared through me in that instant, watching my Viking clinging to this beautiful woman, who obviously returned his affection. I felt the happiness flooding through him as he engulfed her in his arms, and even heard his rumble of contentment when she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Eric," she breathed, "It has been far too long." Even her voice was beautiful.

I shifted a bit awkwardly on my feet, having no idea what to make of this. I didn't need my gift to tell me that this Rachal was something other than human, but her signature wasn't familiar. In a way it was similar to the vampire void, because there was nothing I could 'latch' onto, but it wasn't a void at all. Instead of a hole, it was more like a hazy blue cloud cloaking her mind. I reached out, trying to see if I could wade through the blue mist, but it just continued to swirl and refill, creating a seemingly endless fog.

Then I felt her gaze upon me, even as her head still lay on Eric's shoulder, and I startled a bit. She must have felt my probing. The ice blue pools of her eyes shimmered as they locked with mine, holding me captive, but I felt no fear. There was something utterly benevolent in her gaze... gentle, like ocean waves lapping the shore. She lifted her head with a tender smile that brought one to my own lips.

Eric brought his hands to Rachal's face, tilting his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. Part of me wanted to scream, part of me wanted to cry... all of me wanted to run. The way he touched her was so reverent, tender even. I did not feel anything resembling lust or passion through our bond, but there was no denying the waves of love. _Don't jump to conclusions_, I scolded myself.

"I was hoping it would be you she sent," Eric murmured to her.

I was beginning to wonder if he'd forgotten I even existed, feeling decidedly like a third wheel at this point. I took a deep breath, willing my threatening tears not to fall, and tried to swallow down the growing ache rising in my chest. I had assumed this was the 'she' that was 'calling' him, but his words to her now cast some doubt on that.

Rachal smiled up at Eric, tracing a fingertip across his brow, "I insisted on it. Now," she said, stepping back from his arms and turning her gaze toward me, "Are you going to introduce us?"

Eric broke from his reverie, and I sensed his awareness returning to our bond, along with a wave of guilt. In an instant he was behind me, wrapping his arms gently around me, and pulling my back softly against his chest.

"Dear One, forgive my rudeness, it has been over two hundred years since I have seen my sister."

_Sister?!?_ I blinked, turning my head to look up at his smiling face.

"Sookie," he beamed, "Meet Rachal. Rachal, this is Sookie."

Rachal glided over to me, taking one of my hands between hers. She gave me another gentle smile. I'm sure I looked like a deer stuck in headlights.

"Sookie," she lilted, "It is so wonderful to meet you."

"Y... you, too," I stammered awkwardly.

She looked back up at Eric, the smile never leaving her, and still holding my hand. "You are happy," she stated without a hint of question.

Eric squeezed me a little tighter, and Rachal's eyes glistened with joy at his silent response.

My curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. It was true, I could see somewhat of a family resemblance between the two. Certainly they were both beautiful beyond words. They had those similar, brilliant blue eyes (though hers were lighter) that one could easily get lost in. Both were tall, their frames easily the muse for a master sculptor. However, there was an obvious question that I desperately wanted answered, I just needed to figure out the least offensive way to ask.

"Eric," I said tentatively, glancing back up to him, "Weren't you... human? I mean, before you were turned?"

"Mostly," he said, a small smirk on his lips. "In so much as _you_ are human, Dear One. Although, after recent events, I am beginning to think I was more human than you have ever been."

"Now brother," Rachal laughed, "I am not convinced you are not at least partially responsible for this little... mishap."

It was now Eric's turn to look like a deer caught in headlights, and I grinned with the satisfaction of someone else finally feeling confused.

"Come," Rachal said, gesturing over to Eric's booth, "Let us sit." I idly wondered how she knew which one was his.

Rachal slid gracefully into the booth on one side, Eric and I on the other. He sat sideways, propping his back against the wall and one foot on top of the seat. This forced me to sit between his legs, my back to his chest, not that I minded. Now that I knew Rachal wasn't any sort of... competition, I felt myself beginning to relax. I watched in amazement as she sort of waved her hand over the table, and a goblet appeared before each of us.

"Honey mead for the ladies, and a special blend for the gentleman," she winked at me.

I smiled, taking a sip. While alcohol is not something I drink often, I had to admit this tasted better than any gin and tonic. "Thank you," I replied.

Eric rumbled with satisfaction as he took a long drink. I could only assume it was some special sort of blood. He began to run his fingers lazily through my hair. Rachal was positively beaming at him.

"Little brother, I never thought I would see the day," she quipped. Eric just snorted.

This was becoming almost amusing, "_Little_ brother?" I giggled. The word little was not one I ever expected to hear applied to Eric.

Rachal laughed right along with me, "Yes, by about ten years, in fact. We are actually only half siblings, sharing the same Father." I listened eagerly as Rachal recounted their story, Eric staying surprisingly silent.

"Our Father was a great warrior of the Viking people. Sadly, I never got the chance to meet him. He met my Mother when he was very young, and was enraptured by her, as most men were. She was what you might know as a Naiad," Rachal continued.

"A water nymph," I said, feeling a swell of pride from Eric.

"That's right," Rachal smiled. "When the Chieftain learned our Father had won her favor, he was enraged, and sent all his men with buckets to drain the tiny spring she resided in. My Mother knew danger was at hand, and placed me in the care of her most trusted devotees. Naiad's lives are tied directly to their home, and when the spring perished, so did she."

I gasped, but was stilled by Eric's fingers on my shoulder.

"Our Father, whose name was Adiærf , was so consumed with grief over the loss of her, that he slew the Cheiftain and claimed the title for himself. The great warrior was now a great leader, and a few years later, he took a human wife. This is, of course, when my baby brother here came about. How I wish I could have seen him then, I'm sure he was twice the handful he is now," she laughed.

Eric grumbled, "That is enough, Rachal."

"Oh, Eric, I'm sure Sookie is well aware of your more... maddening qualities," she winked at me again.

I had to fight to stifle my giggles, but broke the tension with, what I thought, was an obvious question. "If both Eric's Father and Mother were human, then where does the non-human part come in?"

"His maternal Great Grandfather was a Satyr," she said in a completely matter-of-fact tone.

Well, that certainly explained a few things. From what I recalled of my readings on mythology, Satyrs were associated with Dionysus. They were great lovers of women, wine, and just about anything associated with physical pleasure. The roguish Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream came to mind. The idea that Eric was a descendant of one of these creatures certainly made sense.

"So, if you had already been hidden away before Eric was born, how did you two end up meeting?"

Rachal's gaze raised to Eric the moment I asked, and I instantly knew there was much more to this story.

"We should probably get going," she said.

"Yes, I'd like to avoid Sookie experiencing her call again, it nearly knocked her over the first time," he replied.

Rachal had been so forthcoming, I got frustrated that we seemed to be back to cryptic land. "If it wasn't Rachal that was... err... calling, then who was it?"

Eric was already scooping me up into his arms, carrying me from the booth. He smiled down at me as I heard Rachal begin to chant something under her breath. The room was soon flooding with a bluish mist, much like what I had experienced with Rachal's mind. I was feeling drowsy, my vision getting blurry... and Eric's answer reached my ears just before sleep reached up to drag me under...

"The Sibyl... my Maker."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Once again, I'd like to send out a huge thank you to Morgaine from the TB wiki. The copious amounts of research required for this sequel left my head spinning, and she was gracious enough to help me sort through it. As many of you probably know, mythology mutates and changes many times with different cultures and eras. I have attempted to break it down into simplistic explanations throughout the story, but if any of you are interested in further study on the topic of the Sybils (aka Pythia) and the mythology behind them, there is tons of information available online. Be sure to check out Morgaine's "Ask A Witch" thread on the TB wiki, as well. Her knowledge is extensive, and she is incredibly generous in answering questions.

I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but time was more limited for me today than I had hoped, and I wanted to get something out to you. The next one should be much longer. I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday season, and thank you again for taking the time to leave reviews and words of encouragement.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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A soft breeze caressed across my skin, gently stirring me from slumber.

"I am not that man anymore, Rachal. I have not been for centuries."

The fog of drowsiness was slowly clearing from my mind, and I vaguely became aware of Eric's voice in the distance. I could feel a soft bed beneath me.

"If that is true, then why do you protect her?"

I kept my eyes closed and remained still. The scent of saltwater hung in the air, and I felt another warm breeze waft across my skin. There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice low and far away.

"I have asked myself that more times than I can count."

"You love her, Eiríkr," I heard Rachal reply. I tried to commit the name she called him to memory, realizing it must be his original given name.

I felt a heaviness through the bond when he responded, a weariness similar to New Year's, when he'd told me the whole sordid story of his plans with Victor. "It is more than that."

"I know," she said softly.

I felt a wave of comfort wash over him, and I ventured to open my eyes. Through a gauzy white canopy that floated around the bed, I saw them outside an open archway, standing on a balcony. Rachal was holding Eric to her, stroking his mane of golden hair. The sight of them was breathtaking.

I could tell Eric felt me stir, and he quickly pulled back from his sister. He started to turn his head toward me, but then tensed up, and it seemed he couldn't bring himself to look at me. I watched as he suddenly took flight, disappearing into the dark. Waves of uncertainty and turmoil ebbed and flowed from him across the bond, receding to a dull ache as the physical distance between us grew.

"He'll be alright," Rachal said gently, having apparently sat down on the edge of the bed without me noticing.

Tears had begun to slip down my cheeks, though I didn't really understand where they were coming from. I looked up at Rachal, questioning her with my eyes. I had this inexplicable feeling that I had somehow wronged Eric, though I didn't know what I could've possibly done to cause him such feelings of... despair.

She reached out, brushing the tears from my cheeks, "Sookie, I cannot even imagine the confusion you must be feeling. I know how overwhelming this must all be for you." She looked toward the archway, adding softly, "For both of you."

"Wh... where are we?" I asked lamely, latching on to the only question I even knew to ask.

She smiled, "We are in Siwa, on the edge of the Great Sand Sea." Rachal took my hand, leading me from the bed to the balcony. "This is the home of Phemonoe, prophetic priestess of the Zeus Amun Oracle, or as you have come to hear her referred, the Sibyl."

She gestured in a sweeping motion to the endless desert before us, and I gasped at the magnificence of it, the sand seeming to twinkle in the moonlight. "Welcome to Egypt, Sookie," Rachal smiled down at me.

I allowed myself a few moments for this to sink in, my eyes roaming the landscape. Rachal's hands were resting gently on my shoulders, a sense of peace and calm radiating from her. The darkness shrouded my view of anything other than sand, but by the scent in the air, I knew we must be close to either the ocean or saltwater lake. I could also make out a faint, green glow on the horizon.

"That is the temple. The glow comes from the Siwan emeralds that adorn it," Rachal said, as if she'd sensed my curiosity. "Legend has it that Dionysus himself erected the temple to show his gratitude to a man who saved him from thirst when he was lost here. It was there that Alexander the Great came to Phemonoe after he conquered Egypt, and she affirmed him as the rightful Pharaoh, and declared his divinity."

My hand flew to my mouth, causing Rachal to quirk at me a bit. Her words rolled through my mind, arranging themselves slowly like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I had heard this story, at least the bit about Alexander, before... from Eric... in Rhodes. The word that had haunted me finally had meaning. Sibyl... seer... prophetess... the Ancient Pythoness.

"She... is Eric's Maker?" I asked, wide-eyed.

Rachal nodded solemnly, and she quickly warned, "Sookie, you must _never_ speak that information to another soul, especially any other vampires. No one, not even his child, knows his origins. I have to admit, I was shocked that Eric revealed it to you."

The implications of this seemed massive to me, and I was sure there was still much more I didn't know. I realized just how little I really knew about Eric. He had never offered any of this information, but then again, I'd never asked. My memories drifted to Rhodes; how Eric had silently hovered over me when I'd spoken up at Sophie-Anne's trial. Was that his way of sending a message to his Maker that I was under his protection? It had seemed so benign at the time... just another vampire gesture of strength. Now I felt almost ridiculous for having thought that. The Kings and Queens revered the Sybil, even seemed to fear her on some level. What must they have thought about Eric's actions? What sort of awful risk had he taken?

I moved to a nearby bench, needing to sit down and try to process my thoughts. Rachal sat silently next to me, and we stayed that way for a time. The room was what I'd expect of some mystical oasis in the desert, like something out of Arabian Nights. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all a dusky, terracotta colored adobe. The windows and doorways were all open, with ornate archways over the tops. Everywhere I looked there were pillows covered in rich, brightly colored and textured fabrics; the massive bed being the only exception. It was all in white.

Looking down at myself, I realized I was, too. My Merlotte's uniform was gone, and the dress that clung to my body was so light I could hardly feel it. The gauzy white material was adorned with a golden cord that criss-crossed over my chest, then wrapped a few times around just beneath, creating an empire-like waist. The dress flowed in layers down to my ankles, and my feet were bare. My blond hair seemed to have been wrapped into long, spiral like braids. I smelled like rose water, and I felt... beautiful.

"I still... don't understand any of this, Rachal. Have we gone back in time? What happened to me in Romania? Why did Victor... or whoever he is... call _me_ a Sibyl? Why is she calling Eric to her now? I felt it... through the bond, at least I think I did. Most of all, why did Eric leave... why is he so..." I trailed off, unable to describe the emotions I'd felt from him as he took to the sky.

Rachal put an arm gently around my shoulders, "I am afraid I do not know the answers to some of those questions, Sookie, and those I do, it is not my place to give them."

She had already given me more answers in the short time I'd known her than others had in years, so I found I couldn't get upset with her. I tilted my head to her shoulder, nodding my understanding. Her very presence was so comforting, I couldn't help wanting to be closer to her, much as a sick child might cling to their Mother. She whispered softly under her breath, words I didn't understand, and a further sense of peace washed through me.

"When you are ready, I will take you to see Phemonoe," she said a few moments later.

"Shouldn't we wait for Eric?" I asked, keenly aware that I should be nervous to see the blind prophetess again, but all I felt was calm.

Rachal kissed my forehead, "He will come when he is ready."

I nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Rachal's warm embrace, "I'm as prepared now as I'll ever be."

Eric's sister rose, scooping me up easily into her arms, carrying me out to the balcony. I hugged my arms around her neck, having no wish to protest. She paused for a moment, her gaze searching the night sky, and then turning down to me.

"Do you love him, Sookie?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.

In that moment I realized I had yet to ever speak those words to Eric, and I wondered at how that was possible. There was no doubt in my mind that I loved him. The night we renewed our bond, he'd spoken those words to me. I'd only said that I was his.

"More than anything," I whispered, my breath catching in my throat.

Rachal's smile to me was brilliant, and a look of relief and joy passed across her face. "Cherish him, Sookie... please cherish him."

I blinked up at her, but she said nothing more, and we set off into the night toward the green glow on the horizon. We flew. I was not afraid.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay, a few things.

For those that are confused about, or want to know more about the Temple and its history (I've gotten a lot of questions), this page sums it up nicely: www. touregypt. net / featurestories / templeoforacle. htm (without the spaces - this site goes wonky on links).

For those that have expressed concern that this story is going too far off into fantasy, rather than reality (ha ha), I want to assure you that we will be making our way back to Shreveport and the backwater of Bon Temps. I'm not giving you any more spoilers than that.

Lastly, I had intended to get to the Sibyl this chapter, but Eric got very demanding with me, so she will be in the next one. Oh yeah, there's a song for this chapter (I know some of you are jumping happily at the implications): "The Mystic's Dream" by Loreena McKennitt.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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The Temple of the Oracle rose up from the vast desert like a glistening jewel, perched on the edge of a cliff. It was surrounded by a circular stone wall, upon which the emeralds were embedded, casting the faint green glow. Surprisingly, the intensity of the light remained the same up close as it had far away. It was gentle and warm, almost beckoning me into its embrace.

From above, where Rachal and I hovered, I could make out the shape of the simple stone structure. It was long and rectangular, with a small jut to one side at the front, like the shape of an 'L'. The building was not terribly large, nor ostentatious as one might expect of a temple. It stair-stepped in height from front to back, with a small, open chamber on the roof at the far end.

I felt Eric was near before I spotted the shadowy figure there. Rachal's calming influence was dulling the effect of his emotions through the bond, but I knew his mood had only grown darker in the time since he'd been gone. Anger, denial, despair... they were all present, along with dozens of other flickering and stabbing disturbances, mixing in a twisting knot I felt catch in my own throat. I looked up at Rachal, and for the first time since I'd met her, saw the joy in her eyes slip away. Her gaze was focused toward him on the roof as mine had been, and the sigh that escaped her lips echoed the emotions rippling through the bond.

I felt torn, wanting to go to him, but still afraid I was somehow the cause of his state. I'd never felt anything like this from him, and it terrified me. There was a struggle raging inside him that I couldn't begin to understand, rolling around over and over in an endless cycle of turmoil, spiraling down into a center of darkness I could only describe as... grief. That was an emotion I knew all too well; yet, whereas I would have crumbled under its weight, Eric remained a pillar of strength. His anger was at war with his despair.

Regardless of what the right, or smart thing to do might be, I could not sit by any longer. He may be a Viking, he may be a warrior, a vampire, and a million other things that logic would dictate to stay at a safe distance from (don't feed the bears); but I am not the pragmatic one in this relationship. I'd be someone else entirely if I didn't try.

I silently gestured to Rachal where I wanted to be set down. She hesitated for a brief moment, and I appealed to her with a look, begging her understanding. Her eyes softened and she nodded, gently depositing me on the roof, a bit of a distance from where Eric stood. She kissed my forehead, sending another wave of calm through me, and disappeared down the nearby steps.

I gave myself a moment of pause, drawing in a slow, deep breath. The warm desert breezes caught the edges of my dress, swirling them around my ankles. The expanse of night sky and stars seemed to go on forever, touched only by the sand on the horizon. It was impossible to deny the magick in the air, the gentle currents that seemed to wrap and flow around me, and blanketed the oasis in a veil of serenity.

Eric's back was to me, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning on his shoulder against the open archway. I knew he felt me near, but he did not move. Moonlight and the emerald glow danced along the edges of his silhouette, a vision of perfectly chiseled warrior against the infinite sky.

Though I could not tell the colors in the darkness, I could see the change in his dress. A long, breezy, tunic-style shirt was cinched low on his hips by a criss-crossing belt. His legs were clad in tight pants that might have been doe-skin, tucked into soft boots that had laces wrapping from ankle to calf. I noticed the faint outline of a sword hilt at his waist.

My bare feet carefully found their footholds on the stone roof as I moved slowly through the darkness toward him. I took each step with purpose, allowing him the time to sense my approach, much like one might move toward an injured animal that would turn and strike at any moment. He remained statue still, his voice low and haunting, as I stopped a few paces behind him.

"What do you see, Sookie? What is it you see when you look at me?"

The question surprised me a little, and I faltered for an answer. Should I tell him the mere sight of him made me weak with longing? That I saw my salvation in his eyes? Should I tell him how one look at him could take away all my fears?

As if he could hear my thoughts, he responded coldly, "I am not a hero, Sookie. You see me through false eyes."

Everything in me wanted to protest, to tell him how he had been my hero more than once. He had saved my life, given me strength, and made me feel important. I wanted to tell him how he'd given me more than I ever expected or hoped for from love. I had seen a glimpse of the man behind the vampire when he'd lost his memory, and again the night we renewed our bond. He was strong... honorable... and beautiful. I needed him to hear all this, but for some reason, the words wouldn't come.

"You cling to a shadow of someone who once existed. He is long since dead. It comforts you to believe that he lives secretly beneath the surface, allowing you to rationalize your actions and feelings for me, and I have allowed it. For a time I may have even believed it."

I looked up into his eyes as he turned to finally face me. There was no trace of the brilliant blue in the darkness. His gaze was cold, piercing, and I felt myself instinctively shrinking away from him.

"You are right to fear me, as part of you always has. I have considered killing you many times. Even now, the thought to do so sits in my mind. I could be rid of this weakness you cause in me."

His words did not sting me as they should. I knew this, had known it, somewhere in the back of my mind. This struggle had been with him for a long time, though I only began to recognize it in Rhodes. He'd said we were bound too tightly to suit him. Not long after he'd said he liked it. He'd echoed similar, contradicting sentiments time and time again with me.

Words finally escaped my lips, before I realized they'd even formed in my mind. There was no trace of anger in my voice.

"If I bring you this much sorrow and pain, then do it."

I found I was no longer backing away from him, but rather sinking down to my knees before him. His eyes followed me, intensity growing in his stare. In that moment I realized he had blocked me off from the bond, and I was left with only my own emotions, raw and untamed. Concrete thought had left me, and I was acting purely from a place of instinct, feeling compelled by something deeper than my fear.

Eric's fingers were gripping the hilt of his sword, and in a flash he drew it from its sheath. Brushing the braids away from my shoulder and tilting my head, I presented my neck to him. I did not flinch as he held the point of the cold steel against my flesh.

"You offer your life to me, do you believe that I will not take it?" he asked in a tone as cold as the blade.

"You are a vampire, Eric, not a knight in shining armor. Your very nature is to kill."

My voice was calm, my tone implying my absolute belief he would, indeed, take my life. I did not move as he pressed the point just deep enough to pierce, feeling a slow trickle of blood slide down my neck. He growled faintly.

"Are you afraid?"

"No."

He came down on his haunches then, gripping my chin in his hand to lock our eyes, "Because you do not believe I will do it."

"No... because I know it will release you from what I felt tonight, and from the chaos I have caused in your life."

His fangs flashed, "I do not feel sympathy, you should not feel it for me."

"I do not pity you, Eric. There is no need to."

"Then why, Sookie? Why do you lay your life at my feet?" his voice hitched, the edge of his control drawing near.

I closed my eyes, seeking out the tendrils of the bond, focusing my mind along its depths. I swam through the golden strands that flowed from me, finding my way to the blackness of his shields. They lashed out at me, like cobras striking at their victim, but I would not be deterred. I envisioned the light that flowed from my hands in Romania, gathering it from the corners of my mind, willing it to merge and grow. Forcing my thoughts, and all the emotion behind them, the light broke through the barrier, flooding into him.

_Because I love you. Every part of you._

I heard his sword drop and opened my eyes to see him on his knees with me. His hands were trembling. The bond was laid bare and open between us, the veil stripped away. Our thoughts came together as one.

His hands threaded into my hair as his lips sought mine, desperate and hungry. He hovered over me on his knees, bending me back as his kiss deepened, consuming me with his body and mind. His tongue glided from my mouth to the puncture his left by his sword, sending a shockwave arcing through the bond. I felt his bloodlust as keenly as if it were my own, because it was. There was no more distinction between us... my wishes were his... his desires were mine.

His mouth wrapped tightly around my wound, his fangs opening it further. He drew deeply... wantonly... and the more he drank, the more I needed him to take. I felt more alive with every pull, even though the essence of my life was being drawn from me. My moans were his... his growls were mine.

As he laid me down, covering my body with his, he withdrew from my neck with a growl. I did not want him to, and thus he ached with my loss of him. My blood dripped from his fangs across my lips, and I arched with his pleasure as my tongue licked for every spilled drop. His deft fingers quickly freed the laces on his pants, and he slid the layers of my dress up past my hips. There were no underthings to bother with for either of us. My desperation was his... his hunger was mine.

Our rhythm was steady... driving... deeper with every stroke. I found myself commanding his gaze, drowning in the depth of his eyes. It was his desire, his heightened ecstasy, and his need for it became my own. His movements hit my spot inside with every thrust in, and ground into my clit with each pull out. He knew my body like it was his own, and he crested with every wave that crashed over me. We bit, and clawed, and screamed. My cries were his... and his control was mine...

... And we came as one.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I apologize this chapter took awhile in coming, but it is the most pivotal one to date, and I wanted to make certain it was crafted well enough to alleviate confusion. I hope you find it rewarding... it's time for some answers. :)

As always, thank you for all the kind words and reviews. I read through them several times while writing this chapter. They helped immensely in getting me through the writing of this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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We lay in silent stillness on the roof, our bodies and minds wrapped together, blanketed in the magickal serenity of the emerald glow. The bond remained effortlessly open, as if it had achieved a new state of being, taking on its own heartbeat and breadth. The confusion of whose emotions I was feeling was gone. In fact, my own sense of self felt more sure than ever. However, I also knew Eric's mind and heart as keenly as if they were my own. At either end of the bond there was distinctiveness, two individual souls with our own light and shade, thoughts and feelings. The uniqueness of each flowed outward, reaching the center of the bond, where they merged in light and energy and power, entwined as one. It was there I could feel him, know him, immerse myself in his entire being and he in mine.

He propped his head on one hand, gazing down at me, the fingers of his other hand running through my braids. My legs were draped over his thigh, and I tucked myself closer into him, loving how small I always felt in his arms. The center of the bond seemed to hum and glow with our contentment. He spoke low and gentle.

"There is a legend that there once existed three sexes; man, who was a child of the Sun; woman, who was a child of the Earth; and the union of the two, the androgynous, who was the child of the Moon, which was made up of both Sun and Earth. Their physical manifestation was primeval man, who had four arms, four legs, and two faces. They were powerful and vain creatures, whom the Gods feared. However, their outright destruction would mean loss of their tribute and worship. So Zeus, as he was called in this legend, developed a plan in which man would be humbled and lessened in strength, and divided them in two."

I listened, hypnotized by Eric's voice, recognizing the parallels he was drawing to our bond.

"Once divided, each half sought another, wrapping into an embrace, desiring to meld back into one. They neglected themselves to the point of starvation because they could not bear to be apart. Upon seeing their destruction, Zeus took pity upon them, and remade their forms that man might enter woman for the purposes of reproducing, ensuring the survival of their race. Thus was born love and the desire to return to our original nature; making one from two, forever seeking our other half to heal us and make us whole."

Sun, Earth, and Moon... Man, woman, and their union... Eric, me, and our bond.

His fingers softly traced across the contours of my face, and I brushed the hair from his brow, tucking one side behind his ear. "You wanted to turn me," I said softly.

"Yes," he replied gently.

He kissed my fingertips as I held them to his lips. I didn't need him to explain. I shared his fear of my mortality, and what my inevitable death would mean for him. He felt he would become nothing more than the monster, that whatever spark of humanity was left in him would be well and truly dead. He could no longer hide the knowledge he'd gained upon our arrival here, it passed to me through the bond as easily as if I'd experienced it myself.

While I had slept, he'd spoken with his Maker. He learned she'd chosen him because of a vision. She was a prophetess, after all, and spoke the words of Gods. She'd seen Eric in her visions long before he was even born. She never questioned the reasons, they were not hers to question. He would become her only vampire child, it was a proclamation to her from something beyond.

This was not sitting well with him at all. Being 'chosen' by the Gods meant to him that he had a great destiny to fulfill, like a hero in one of the Sagas he learned as a child. In his mind, this was in direct opposition to his nature as a vampire. His entire belief structure was being shaken, and he was raging against it. He didn't want this any more than he wanted to be King.

With the new state of our bond, he was also becoming convinced that I was somehow central to this prophecy. It was that belief that swayed him from turning me. He feared how it would change me... change us. I was his muse... his angel.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and he kissed it away. "Come Dear One, it is time. She is waiting for us."

He stood, retrieving his sword and sliding it back into its sheath, then held out his hand to me. I smiled, taking it, and rising to my feet. I smoothed my dress and hair, hoping I managed to right my appearance. His gaze cast appreciatively over me for a moment, and I grinned as the smirk returned to his face.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

He took my hand once more, and we descended the stairs together, entering the chamber below. The simple, stone room was awash in candlelight, with a central brazier set into the floor. Animal pelts and colorful pillows, like the ones in my bed chamber, were piled around it, creating little, nest-like seating areas. The ever present green glow highlighted ancient looking statues, set into niches on each wall.

Eric scooped me up and settled us into some pillows, resting my back against his chest, his arms wrapping lightly around my waist. I was reminded of sitting around a campfire when I was little, only instead of Jason teasing me and pulling my hair, I was cradled in the lap of a giant Viking. He nuzzled against my neck, rumbling softly in his chest.

A few moments later she entered, led by two of her hand maidens at each arm. One of them carried a small, low stool, which she set down opposite us across the brazier. The Sibyl, Phemonoe, seemed even more ancient than I remembered. Her white hair was untamed, thin, hanging loosely around her gaunt face. She was slightly hunched, carrying an ornately carved walking stick, clad in layers of colorful robes. Eric and I both moved to our knees as her maids settled her on the stool. Despite her being blind, I knew through Eric, and my own experiences with her, that she possessed her own unique sense of sight.

"Mother," Eric greeted reverently and with a hint of joy. I was a bit surprised at how he addressed her.

She snorted. Literally. "Stop that, Eiríkr, this is not court. Sit, sit."

I liked her already.

Eric pulled me back into his lap, kissing the top of my head. The hand maidens brought out a small tray of fruit and a cup of honey mead for me, and goblets for Eric and his... well... Mother. If that's what he called her, then so would I. I thanked the pretty woman, popping a grape into my mouth. Eric chuckled his amusement.

"You seem in better spirits since our last meeting," his Mother remarked, then tilted her head, studying us with her sightless eyes. She grunted in a seemingly approving manner. "Well, there is no going back for it now. You have chosen."

"She bewitched me, I do believe," he smirked. I elbowed him in the ribs, inciting a roar of laughter from my Viking. He placed a soft kiss on my temple, "I am not complaining, Dear One. I would live happily under your hex for all my nights."

"Wondrous..." the Pythoness breathed.

She began to chant something, and though I couldn't understand the words, her tone made me think it might be a prayer. Eric's arms tightened around my waist, the center of the bond reverberating with contentment. I found that, though I had many questions, I no longer felt the incessant need to voice them. I would wait patiently, knowing they would come.

"This one," she said, pointing toward Eric with her walking stick, but directing her words to me. "He haunted my visions for many nights. Over and over I watched myself feeding him, giving the gift of immortality. What made this so remarkable is that it should not have been possible for me to turn him, for I am not vampire as you know them to be."

That certainly caught my attention. I think I must've made some noise audible enough for their vampire hearing, because Eric stilled me, stroking his thumbs inside my palms. A moment later the Sibyl continued.

"My Mother was Lamia, the Libyan Queen, loved by Amun, or Zeus as the Greeks called Him. His love for her was so great that Mut, Amun's consort, became jealous and stole away Lamia's children. In her grief, my Mother became the immortal Pythoness, a great creature with the head of a woman and body of a snake, and took to feeding upon the blood of children. She was, in essence, the first vampire. In the fleeting moments when her grief would lessen and she could recall her need to nurture, she would feed her blood to the children she had fed upon, and they became vampires as you know them today."

I listened, both horrified and enraptured, to the tale. I had the fleeting thought of the Ouroboros Eric wore; the snake devouring its own tail, the Goddess symbol of an eternal cycle. I had never realized just how much mythologies weaved together, all hinting at truths of the world as I knew it. If things ever returned to normal, I knew I'd be neck deep in mythology books for quite some time.

"In an attempt to appease her, Amun gave to Lamia the gift of prophecy, which passed to me, along with her need for blood, as the result of their final coupling. However, Lamia's grief remained all consuming, and Amun feared that she could not recognize me from other children, and would inevitably feed upon me. He called upon a servant to deliver me from Libya to Siwa, and I became His Sibyl. When I neared my death, Amun bestowed upon me the breath of life, for that is what He encompasses. Thus, I feed upon blood and am immortal, but my creation was unlike that of any other vampire."

Listening to Phemonoe felt like receiving a sacred gift. I doubted whether most vampires even knew this story, since the ones I knew only said their origins were rooted in magick, but seemed to lack any further information. Eric would later confirm these were secret truths told to very few.

She took a sip from her goblet, perhaps allowing me time to process, before continuing. "The night after I received Amun's gift of immortality, my visions became plagued by images of a young warrior. He was dressed in cloth I did not recognize, sailing on a ship that was foreign to my knowledge. The young warrior was shackled to the mast, appearing as a trophy before the captain, a most barbaric man. He had been made a slave when his village was conquered; his father, the Chieftain, having fallen in battle. The young warrior fought bravely, but in the end, the captain claimed the son as his prize. He was made to watch as his wife was raped and his children slaughtered, before being shipped off to distant lands and a life of servitude."

I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks, even though I knew Eric neither needed, nor wanted my pity. I gripped his hands tighter in mine as he lay his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my neck and inhaling my scent. Imagining Eric on his knees, being forced to serve some odious barbarian was almost too much for me to take. I had never, in the time I'd known him, seen him in any state less than complete control. The throngs knelt before him. Even when he was faced with a vampire of a higher political position, he maintained an air of confidence that was like a silent warning; I'll play your game, but don't even think to tread on what is mine.

I also began to understand why he never sought more power. His Father had once taken a mighty position, only to have it all ripped away. Eric, while he certainly reveled in control and power, wanted balance.

We fell silent for a time, and I watched the firelight dance in the brazier. Eric's fingertips ran slowly up and down the outside of my arms, lulling me into a renewed sense of calm. The Sibyl was chanting again, the power of her ancient prayer washing over us like a blessing. I felt myself slipping into a dreamy, hypnotic state, floating along the emerald ripples of energy. Phemonoe's voice hung in the air, and then... the images began to form in my mind.

There was a beautiful priestess, dressed in ornate ceremonial robes, and I knew somehow that it was Phemonoe, as she had been in her youth. She stood in a circle, ringed with a crowd of silent onlookers, facing a dark-haired, handsome man with a regal air about him. The Kingly man disrobed her, and she in turn shed his garb. There were many lines spoken to each other, words that might have made me blush, all in the nature of a sacred ritual. With all eyes on them, they made love over and over. It was reverent and beautiful, and there was no shame, but rather rejoicing in the spirituality and magick of their union.

One vision melted into the next, and I witnessed Phemonoe giving birth. Her coupling had produced a child. The baby was swaddled in her arms, receiving blessings and prayers from the throngs that had gathered. They revered the child as divine, a gift from the Gods.

The images swirled and flashed, the child having grown into a handsome man, who had taken a mate. I watched as Phemonoe's lineage progressed down through the ages, witnessing child after child being born, to then grow and have their own. It seemed that every other generation or so, the mate taken was another kind of supernatural creature. Some I recognized, some I did not. Many were beautiful, and a few were rather frightening.

Generation upon generation passed in the blink of an eye, mixing blood and species to continue the line that began with Phemonoe and her child of the divine. Sights and surroundings became more familiar to me as ancient times led to images from my childhood history books, progressing near to modern day, until finally...

A beautiful man approached... his gaze held captivated by a young woman hanging laundry on a line in her backyard... my backyard. The young woman... was Gran.

Words I couldn't recall ever having heard spoken echoed in my mind.

_"Even I didn't foresee this, though perhaps I should have. The last remaining trace of my mortal life... bonded to my child... the Gods clearly have a plan." _

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Quick mythology lesson: Daemons can be defined as "good or malevolent supernatural beings between mortals and Gods, such as inferior divinities and ghosts of dead heroes". They served as a link between the human and divine spheres. The Latinized spelling was purposely adopted from the Greek word daimôn, to distinguish daemons of ancient Greek religion from the Judeo-Christian demons.

I apologize for the delay in this chapter. Now that the holidays are past, I should get back to my normal speed. Thank you, as always, for the wonderful reviews! I wish all of you a very happy 2009.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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To say that I was in shock would be an understatement of epic proportions. These visions could not _possibly_ be telling me what they seemed to be. That I was a distant descendant of a divine child? Oh, and not just that, but a divine child who was the Grandson of a God and a mythical, snake-like, child devouring, vampire monster? A descendant who had picked up the DNA and blood of dozens of other supes along the way? Oh, and let's not forget, was now blood bonded to the only vampire child of the Mother of said Grandson? Did someone slip acid in that honey mead?

Eric had gone completely still. He had seen it all with me, and his shock was no less than mine. There was one notable difference in our current thought processes, however. Eric actually believed in what we'd seen.

I vaguely heard a laugh coming out of my throat, but not one of humor. I sounded... crazed. "Heh... heh... heh... The _divine_ barmaid. Heh... heh... heh."

"Sookie..." Eric said, trying to still me with his touch, though there was no admonishment in his tone.

I snapped my head around to him, seeing uncertainty in his eyes, like he was looking at someone he barely recognized.

"Eric, stop it! Stop looking at me like I'm an alien! This is absurd!" I hissed, scrambling out of his lap. He didn't try to keep me there, which just upset me further. I plopped down with a huff in another pile of pillows. Eric remained motionless, just staring at me like I had the plague.

Suddenly a deep voice filled the room, commanding attention.

"I told you this was a mistake, Phemonoe."

He stepped out of the shadows as if he'd emerged straight out of one of the statues. Hovering behind the Sibyl, arms folded across his chest, those glowing green eyes leveled straight at me. Victor.

"Oh great, just great," I grumbled.

Eric was up like a shot, sword drawn, before the words finished leaving my lips. He moved protectively in front of me, his blade held at the ready. I gleaned from Eric, through the bond, that despite his appearance, this was definitely _not_ Victor the vampire.

"Sit down, Viking, lest you wish your final death," the impostor hissed, taking a step forward.

Eric growled, "Was it you the entire time, _daemon_, or only when Sookie was being led to the lion's den?"

"Enough!" the Sibyl shrieked.

The room fell silent.

"Now you," she said, pointing to Eric with her walking stick, "Sit. And you," with a point to 'Victor', "Quit with the dramatics."

I almost giggled at that one. Eric waited until the daemon had moved silently back behind Phemonoe, then went down on his haunches near me. His sword remained unsheathed.

Phemonoe sighed, taking another sip from her goblet. "Avel," she began, and I realized this must be 'Victor's' true name. "Where is the fairy?"

"Hiding in the ether like the coward that he is," the daemon hissed.

I had no idea what they were talking about, of course. The only fairies I knew were my Great Grandfather and cousins, and I couldn't imagine anyone referring to any of them as cowards. Well, maybe Claude, I don't know enough about him to say one way or the other. I began to wonder how many 'hours' I'd actually been awake. Since this night seemed eternal, I imagined the vampires could stay awake an indefinite amount of time. Oddly enough, I wasn't feeling tired. Romania felt like light years ago, but my body seemed not to sense any passage of time.

The stress of it all was beginning to get to me, though. Without Rachal's calming presence, and with Eric tensed up from Avel's arrival, I was left to the musings of my mind. How does one even begin to try to process the sheer volume of information that had been thrown at me? I could barely comprehend it, much less attempt to analyze any implications of it. I'd always given Eric such a hard time when he wouldn't just answer all my questions. Be careful what you wish for.

Phemonoe grumbled her dissatisfaction at Avel's answer, "We must proceed without him, then. I had hoped to give him the chance to explain himself to the child, but no matter. Avel, Eiríkr; leave us." She waved her hand dismissively.

I could tell Eric wasn't pleased, but he made no argument. Once Avel had faded back into the shadows, Eric sheathed his sword, and turned on his haunches to meet my gaze. His eyes were gentle, but I could still see and feel traces of his new discomfort with me, and I bristled.

"I will not be far, Dear One," he said softly, kissing my cheek. My eyes followed as he disappeared silently out the doorway.

"Come. Sit nearer to me, child," Phemonoe beckoned.

I had no reason to fear her, as far as I could tell, and so I did as she asked. I knew Eric wouldn't have left if there were any possibility of danger. At least, I hoped that was still the case. I settled myself on some pillows near her stool, tucking my legs up Indian style. We sat in silence for a time, and I welcomed it, allowing my mind to slip back into a calmer state. The firelight danced across her pale face and stark white hair, but the blackness of her sightless eyes seemed to remain untouched.

"In ancient times, the species all roamed the Earth, seas and skies together, though certainly not always in harmony. Very few hid their existence from others, there was no need. Over time, banality began to creep into the world, casting a shadow of fear. The humans became greedy and arrogant, desiring to rid the Earth of those they now perceived as their persecutors. Through force of numbers alone, they succeeded in making their war, both in body and mind. Over the centuries, some of the species were annihilated, others driven back to their own planes. Those that remained faded into the shadows, no choice left to them but to live behind a mask, the only proof of their existence contained in the myths of old."

I listened to Phemonoe, hugging my knees to my chest. My renewed sense of calm was fleeting. I felt a chill creeping across my skin, and tension returning to my body.

"As with all things, the cycle is once again coming round. The very things that humans used to dismiss our existence, their logic and science, is what has allowed us to begin to re-emerge. It started with the vampires, but they are only the first of many to come. Many are weary with their long absence from the world, and desire to reclaim what was once theirs. I fear war shall rage once again. If compromise cannot be found between us and the humans..." she trailed off with a heavy sigh.

I rested my chin on my knees, feeling the weight of her words pressing down on me. The Fellowship of the Sun may only be the beginning. What she hinted at sounded no less frightening than the apocalypse. Many feared the end of the Earth would come with nuclear weapons, and no doubt, humanity would utilize them if they felt it necessary. Add to that supernatural powers and forces I'd only begun to scrape the surface of, and it's enough to make you want to just crawl in a hole and hide.

"Do not fret, child," the Sibyl said gently. "It is the way of the universe to follow this cycle of rebirth. Creation and destruction are dependent upon each other for all to thrive. The Gods are infinite in their wisdom, and set forth the forces to allow our survival long before we walked this Earth. _You_, dear child, are but one of them."

Somehow I had already known where this was leading, and was too numb at this point to succumb to further shock. I'd already begun trying to convince myself this was all just some bizarre dream. Maybe I had food poisoning. I'd been reading too many fantasy novels lately. I had a fever. I'd finally gone well and truly crazy.

"Well," I said, standing up. "This has all been so interesting, and I do thank you for your hospitality, but I really need to be waking up now. No more time for dreams. I have to work tonight. Y'know. I'm a _barmaid_. A crazy, telepathic, _human_ barmaid from a backwater town in Louisiana. So, I'll just be going now," I said, closing my eyes tight, and smacking my face a few times in the hopes I'd bat myself out of sleep.

Not surprisingly, nothing happened. I peeked out one eye, huffing a sigh of frustration at the lack of change in my surroundings, and began to pace around the room. The Sibyl stayed quiet.

This is ridiculous. It's beyond ridiculous! There's a logical explanation for this somewhere, I just have to find it. Stress, maybe. Eric is sitting awaiting a tribunal somewhere, who knows if it's even Romania, and I'm just afraid. My mind is creating this dream to help me sort through it. Well, now I'm getting just plain frustrated. Enough already!

Oh... hell. Not again.

I looked slowly down at my hands. They were clenched in fists. My jaw was so tight I thought I might break a tooth. I knew what was coming seconds before the pain began searing into the back of my eyes.

"No no no no no!" I screamed, jerking my head to Phemonoe as the glow began building around my hands.

Why the hell is she just sitting there? Do something!

My knees were starting to give out. The pain was building behind my eyes, and my brain began to pulse with the impending explosion. So bright... maybe this time I'll die.

I heard Eric call my name just as I was collapsing to the ground. Then I felt him. His arms wrapped around me from behind, his hands sliding down to meet my glowing fists.

The bond flared from both ends as Eric seemed to absorb some of the energy threatening to explode from me. It poured equally from both of us as we fought together to contain it. It swirled in vibrant colors, humming with the vibrations of an impending sonic boom.

_Let go, Sookie. I have you._

Somehow... I understood what he wanted of me. I swam out for the tendrils of the bond, trying to focus my entire being toward its center. With every ounce of control I could find, I released the energy to it, like slowly letting the air out of a balloon. The colors and light danced along the tendrils from both ends as Eric let go with me. The pressure valve was released.

The world was still. Our minds glimpsed each other across the fathomless depths of the bond, which now held in its center a brilliant light. It shimmered and glowed there, calm and serene, as if it merely awaited direction. Eric's deep voice echoed in the ether.

_All I could think, when you dove on top of me in Romania, was to wish you were home safe in Bon Temps._

_And I was wishing I had just pursued you once Hallow's curse was broken, thinking I'd wasted so much precious time._

_When your body collided with mine, the light coming from you was so intense. In that instant I felt myself merge with it. I believe that, somehow, our errant thoughts directed an outcome. Thus we found ourselves back to the night it all began._

_Eric... how is that possible?_

_All things are possible, Dear One. With the new state of our bond, we now appear to have some control over the outcome._

_Then... what do we do? What should we... wish for?_

_Time. Time to understand and choose which path to take._

Our silent wish was made. The light of the bond whirled and spun, ripples of energy flowing and fusing, becoming one. I vaguely became aware of my body collapsing with Eric's to the floor, still cradled in his arms. The light at the center dimmed to a soft glow, as though it were resting, awaiting our return.

I slipped under into a dreamless sleep, held securely in the arms of my other half.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter is told from Eric's POV, for reasons that will quickly be obvious. I hope you enjoy. As always, thank you for all the support and inspiration!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Eric touched down on the balcony of the bed chamber, his sleeping bonded cradled in his arms. The force of will he'd needed to expend, in order to absorb and gain control of the energy that threatened to consume her, had required him nearly thirty minutes and two goblets of blood to recover from. He could not begin to guess how long her fragile, mortal body would need to be at rest. If the amount of time became concerning, he would feed her his blood. For now, however, he would allow her respite, and himself time to seek answers.

He laid her gently on the bed, sliding the thin coverlet over her. His hand brushed the stray braids from her face, and he leaned in to kiss her temple. The sight of her, drifting in peaceful slumber, seized at his chest, tugging and wrenching at the man he'd long since buried. How had it come to this?

He rose with a heavy sigh, drawing closed the bed's gauzy curtains. _Rest, Dear One_.

The Viking's mind was weary with the weight of his long years. This place haunted him with ghosted memories, ones he had thought drained of significance long ago. He silently descended the stairs to the courtyard below, letting his gaze roam slowly over the vast desert that sprawled into the horizon, touching the eternal night sky. This realm was sacred, a sanctuary from the endless downward spiral of the mortal world, a plane of existence reserved for those touched or favored by the divine. Its space was infinite, its possibilities endless; a gift from the Gods that cradled the faithful, allowing them to find their way once more. It was the crossroads.

Eric settled himself on the ledge of the low stone wall that encircled the courtyard, hooking one heel onto the edge, one arm resting languidly over his knee. The sounds of trickling water from the central fountain relaxed his tense muscles. He inhaled the scents of saltwater and desert air, mingled with the incense that burned from braziers mounted over low burning torches. His eyes closed as he felt her approach from behind, sliding a gentle hand onto his shoulder which he covered with his own.

"It is so good to have you home," Rachal said softly.

Eric's love for her knew no bounds. Until his bonded, Rachal had been the only source of peace in his world, his one true constant. It was because of her that he held onto the few remnants of his mortal life, and the man he had once been. Upon his turning, and the years of learning that followed, she remained here by his side. She nurtured his soul in the face of his death and the hardening of his heart. Though they were of the same mortal blood, he had never known her in that sort of familial sense. Their relationship was not one that could be defined by any human notions or plagued by their mores.

He brought her palm to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on her velvet skin. "It is not the homecoming I would wish for."

She pressed herself to his back, her arms encircling him as they stared into the distance. Her voice remained low. "No, but it is the one you need."

He gently clutched her hands, "If there is reasoning behind this madness, I cannot see it. If Sookie was meant to have such power, why was she not cared for and nurtured from birth?"

"When Niall's son Fintan learned of her fate he chose to hide her away, and we suspect the Prince helped him to do it. Niall is set in his ways, and believes we are all better off hidden from the mortal world. He cares only for the security of his realm," Rachal sighed softly. "Phemonoe believed her line had perished with the freak accident that killed Sookie's parents."

"Accident," Eric scoffed. "I knew from the moment I heard the story that it was no accident, but I could not have guessed its purpose. I suppose Niall and Fintan found it easier to keep her hidden by exerting their influence on the Grandmother."

"I would assume so," she replied. "Some of the creatures in Sookie's ancestry, such as the succubus, cause many of the species to be inexplicably drawn to her. Niall was a fool to think he could shield her forever."

"Perhaps..." he trailed off, allowing the bits and pieces to fit together as a whole in his mind. He now knew that Sookie's abilities first manifested the night after their bond had been renewed, when it was rendered open and complete by their purposeful and desirous actions. The logical conclusion was that the bond, and his blood, had brought something in her to the surface, waking her dormant powers.

"You have not wronged her, Eiríkr. Do not forget that you were chosen. You were part of this tale long before it began. It was meant to happen this way," Rachal said, knowing his mind all too well.

Eric released her hands, rising from the ledge, moving a few steps away as he strained for foothold over his mind. Self-doubt was a feeling most foreign to him, but he found himself sinking into it much as he had when he was first turned. He recalled bitterly how he had been horrified at his new existence, thinking how his mortal servitude was preferable in comparison. The first time he fed had sickened him, and he thought himself truly a monster. These shades of an ancient past now gripped at him once more, his own journey coming full circle. His crossroads were clear; become the demon, or find rebirth.

"How can I begin to help her harness a power I do not pretend to understand?" he said, resignation in his voice.

Rachal moved nearer once more, turning to face him and hold his gaze. "She is unique, Eiríkr, there is no one who can claim knowledge of her abilities or what she may be capable of."

"Even if I succeed in preventing her from simply annihilating herself with her own gifts, what then? To what end?"

"No one knows that, either. You can only trust in your own instincts, which have always served you well. The Gods do not make random choices, you must have faith that by simply being yourself, you will fulfill the purpose you were meant to serve."

He snorted, "You have been with Phemonoe for too long, Sister."

"You have given yourself too much to the selfishness and indifference of the dead," she admonished.

He could not be angry with her, despite the sting and innocence of her words. She did not know his world, nor did he wish her to. She was far too gentle and kind-hearted to be thrown in with the hounds. It would break her, and that, he could never bear. He opened his arms to her, and she sank into his embrace. Eric knew the pain of loss she felt over him, but he could feel no guilt over becoming what he is. Their paths were never meant to be eternally joined. He hummed softly, stroking her hair, a reversal of the roles they once played.

"Phemonoe will not be able to stave off Avel for much longer, Eiríkr," she said softly against his chest.

He placed a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up, "What do you mean?"

Rachal's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Avel believes Sookie to be a lost cause. He wants to keep her here long enough to conceive and give birth to the next in line, and then take the child from her to train."

Eric's brow furrowed. Undercurrents of rage threatened to take hold, but the pragmatist in him rarely gave in to such emotional gut reactions. He released Rachal from his embrace, beginning to slowly pace as his mind rolled over the various scenarios.

It was a given he could not father a child for Sookie, which meant this plan would require another. While this did not sit well with his pride, he would put that aside for the moment to consider the larger picture. A child raised and trained into their destiny seemed far more logical than attempting to gain control over Sookie's abilities. As it stood now, she did not even accept that she was fated for a great destiny. Her stubbornness would be a great hindrance to any attempts Eric might make at guiding her down this path. He had no doubt he would gain her compliance in the end, but it may take far too much time. Time was an unknown variable in this equation, considering the goals were unclear. Was Sookie destined to affect a pivotal moment in time, or would her actions over time culminate in fulfilling her purpose?

There was also the question of her mortality and whether or not he would turn her. Another unknown variable. As a vampire she may have far greater control over her powers, especially with him as her Maker. However, it might also affect the state of their bond, which had now become almost an entity unto itself. Eric had never heard of, nor encountered, a bond of such magnitude. It was only through the bond that he was able to help her control the energy unleashing itself from her. If it were damaged through the turning, the consequences could be dire.

On the other hand, he doubted Sookie would willingly agree to conceiving a child. Her human notions of monogamy would cause her to immediately dismiss the idea, and her ire at the mere suggestion would result in a fit Eric could already hear in his mind. She would be disgusted with him for being open to such an idea. Sookie would push him away, yet again, and then he could not help her to keep control of the magickal battle raging inside of her. She would also be inconsolable when the child was ripped from her arms shortly after birth. Of all these things, he was certain.

Down one path lay many unknown variables, but Eric learned long ago not to fear the unknown. When debating over choices, it is always best to rely on what you can account for. The path Avel proposed would harm his bonded in too many ways, and the ends might be catastrophic.

"No," he stated firmly. "That is not an acceptable solution."

Rachal smiled gently, "I am glad to hear you say that."

"I will deal with the daemon, should it become necessary. When Sookie wakes, I will find some way to get through to her and make her understand that running is no longer an option. She... _we_... will face this whether she wants to or not."

His voice became more assured with every affirmation of his purpose. Rachal took his hand, giving a little squeeze, her silent vow of support. He regarded her with a tender gaze, cupping her face in his hands, and placing a gentle, chaste kiss upon her lips. It was the only acknowledgment of his love he could afford her now, and he knew that she had accepted this the moment she saw him with his bonded.

"I should go check on Sookie," he said softly, breaking the moment before it could get away from him.

Rachal nodded with a smile, "I will go tell Phemonoe of your..."

Eric's head snapped up in the same instant Rachal abruptly cut off her words. The scent had hit him like a slap to the face. It was one that did not belong in this place. In an instant his sword was drawn, and he pressed Rachal behind him.

"What is it?" she whispered, having sensed a disturbance, but unable to identify it.

Eric snarled, "Shifter."

He moved silently in the direction of the scent, all his senses fully heightened. It was not close, but somewhere out over the rolling dunes. As his vampire speed allowed him to quickly draw closer, he began to distinguish the smells of multiple beings. Shifter... Were... Human... Vampire. His eyes grew wide as he realized the familiarity of each scent.

Floating over the last dune blocking his vision, he saw them. They all appeared unconscious, lying in heaps on the sand. _How is this possible?_

Eric shook his head in despair, the answer coming to him as quickly as he'd asked it in his mind. Sookie. She had no idea how to direct her thoughts to a singular purpose when they had wished for time to choose a path. Of course she would be thinking of the fates of others over herself. It was her concern that brought them here, he was certain of it. There was no other explanation for this particular group to be here, sleeping on a sand dune in a plane they did not belong. His gaze flicked over each of them one by one.

Pam. Compton. Elana. Victor. Amelia. Dawson. Sam.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: We're still in Eric's POV this chapter. I expect to return to Sookie's the next, but you never know. Thank you, as always, for reviewing!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Eric stood atop the sand dune, arms folded across his chest, eying the scene below for any signs of movement. He knew Rachal would arrive soon, most likely with some of the oasis guardians, and he would not take action without direction from Phemonoe, lest it become necessary. This situation was most unnerving, and Eric lacked the requisite information to make decisions on how it should be handled. He'd never heard of anyone entering this realm that did not belong here, and wondered if the Gods had allowed their passage, or if Sookie's abilities could defy even their wishes. For now he would assume the former, as retribution would certainly be swift were it the latter. A check of the bond told him that she was still unconscious, but unharmed.

One by one he began to assess each slumbering form. He instantly dismissed the idea these were impostors or a mirage because he felt his Child's presence. Pam, along with Bill and Victor, were malnourished. The three had also been in Romania, awaiting tribunal, so this was not surprising. Pam and Bill would both need blood immediately if they woke, still too young to control the blood lust that would be upon them. Victor, though not as old as Eric, would be able to maintain himself for at least a time.

Victor... why was Victor here? The others were all individuals Sookie cared for, which seemed to be the common thread, but Victor certainly did not fall into that category, did he? Curious. Perhaps Avel's appearance as Victor was floating around in her subconscious thoughts. Eric fully intended to get to the bottom of that little game when time permitted. He'd been ready to destroy Victor, if the tribunal had not, for his part in Felipe's assault on Sookie in the penthouse. Now his involvement was in question. Eric could not be certain whether it was indeed Victor, or if it was Avel masquerading as him. Until that point, Victor had been a loyal and trusted ally, and in many ways, a friend.

Elana's presence was another curiosity, though not as glaring as Victor's. Under normal circumstances, the young vampire would never have been on Eric's radar in the realm of protectors for his bonded. However, with such a large portion of his subjects called to tribunal, he'd been forced to make do with those left. When Bill brought her to Fangtasia the night they were to leave for Romania, her devotion to Compton was immediately apparent. Eric knew Bill would impress upon her the importance of the assigned task, since Sookie's safety was as much a concern to him as it was to Eric. Though Bubba would be her main evening protector, Elana's physical proximity to Sookie's home made her a logical second choice. Despite her young age, the girl seemed to have a decent head on her shoulders. He recalled that the plan Sookie told him of to secure his and his subjects' freedom had been devised by Elana. Even Eric had to admit it was a rather smart one, even if only in theory.

Eric's gaze flicked over the last three; the Witch, Were, and Shifter. Even though the reasons seemed obvious at first glance, the more he considered the group, the less things added up in his mind. If it were merely Sookie's concern for her friends that brought them here, why only Amelia and not the other Witch? For that matter, why not Herveaux or the tiger? Why include Victor and Elana? No, there was more to this, something specific about these individuals.

Just as Eric had just begun revisiting his original theory, questioning whether or not his bonded was truly responsible for this, Rachal drew to his side with an audible gasp.

"Indeed," Eric stated in reply.

Rachal moved slowly down the slope, studying the group much as he'd done just moments ago.

"We need to get the mortals away from the vampires. They will wake soon, and from the look of them, there will be only one thing on their minds," she called to the three guardians that accompanied her, who moved swiftly to retrieve them, carrying them back toward the oasis.

Eric glided down to his sister, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You must leave as well, they will not hesitate in seeing you as a meal. Go now. Inform Phemonoe of the situation, and send servants with blood."

Rachal nodded silently and took quickly to the sky.

Eric positioned himself in such a manner that would allow him to grapple Pam and Bill, should it be necessary. Rachal had dismissed any hope he'd had of their remaining unconscious, and he was not about to let them disrupt the sanctity of this realm. There would be questions, of course, the moment they regained themselves. He'd need to think quickly with regard to what his answers would be. Eric had no intention of revealing anything of Sookie's nature to them, but he would need to give enough information to placate them. He may take his cues from Phemonoe in this regard. His one small comfort was that these vampires each owed him fealty, and would not challenge him were they made to wait on explanations.

Victor was the first to stir. His eyes opened, pupils dilating, body immediately tensing upon recognition he was not where he should be.

"Blood is on the way," Eric stated in his most commanding voice. "Be prepared to restrain Compton if necessary."

Victor rose swiftly, nodding to Eric, knowing from his tone not to question him. He would receive explanations in due course. Victor positioned himself behind Bill, pinning Compton's arms back against his chest in a prone position. This freed Eric to assume a similar position of control over Pam. Eric glanced at Victor to assess his current level of competency, and though his jaw clenched from fighting his hunger, he seemed well enough in control. Eric would instruct Elana to help him once she rose, since she was not in the same position of deprivation as the others.

Eric felt his Child begin to wake and tightened his grip around her. He heard her fangs run down and began to murmur in her ear as she started to fight and thrash. It pained him to see her this way, and he tried to soothe her with his voice. Most of her hand was still missing from the limb that was damaged in the fight, so the loss of feeding was particularly harsh on her. As he spoke words of comfort and assurance in her ear he sensed Victor had begun to struggle with Compton. Where were those damned servants?

"Wh... what's going on?" Eric heard Elana ask.

He jerked his head toward Victor, "Help him."

The young vampire's eyes went wide and she hesitated.

"Now!" Eric roared.

Elana jumped and then scrambled across the sand, attempting to pin Bill's legs down. In the process she took a kick to the face, but to her credit, she simply flung her body back over him. It was enough to allow Victor to maintain his grip.

When the servants carrying wine bottles of blood finally made their way over the dune, Eric began the ordeal of forcing sustenance down his crazed minions' throats. He was forced to pin Pam on her back, his knee pressed firmly into her sternum, while his hands held her head still and mouth open. He barked orders at one of the servant girls to pour the blood down her throat. Victor and Elana went through a similar procedure with Bill, though with a bit more difficulty since Victor was straining to maintain his own control.

Fifteen or so minutes later order had been restored, the servant girls sent away, and Eric sat in quiet vigil over his flock while they fed from the remaining bottles. Elana had taken residence in Compton's lap, cooing over him like some damned dog, but Eric would not taunt him over it now. Victor and Pam were exchanging curious glances, wondering if either knew where they were, but did not voice their questions. He took advantage of the few moments of silence to compose his thoughts, contemplating his next move. For now, he would opt for the 'the less you know, the better' approach. He must consult with Phemonoe, or at the very least, allow her to lead any conversations that were to take place.

Eric broke through the silence with his authoritative voice, "When you are composed, we will journey over the dunes to the oasis. For now, I can tell you only that we are safe here. I am sure you have already begun to notice that time stands still here, and that you have many questions. I will require your patience in receiving answers."

As expected, they all nodded in deference to him. Vampires were not impatient creatures, and Eric had earned the trust and loyalty of those here, save Elana, but she was hardly a concern. Compton would keep her in line. Certainly Bill and he had their differences, but those were personal issues. They had always worked well together in all other matters. His threats to send Compton to Mississippi as liaison had only been a test, one with the results he'd expected. Despite what Bill may think, Eric trusted very few others when it came to Sookie, and Compton's devotion to her placed him on that select list. For all his blustering, he would never force himself on Sookie, and would do anything necessary to protect her.

Eric rose to his feet, signaling the others to follow, once he felt sure they were sated. The group made their way silently across the desert. He had almost forgotten he'd have the others to deal with once they returned, reminded as he once again caught Merlotte's scent. He hoped they would not make themselves too much of a nuisance.

As the oasis came into view, Bill moved beside him. "I know this place," he commented, a bit wide-eyed. "Though, when I visited it was in ruins, only a shadow of rock and relics."

Eric recalled Bill's love of antiquity and was not surprised to learn he'd visited the Egyptian ruins. In this realm the temple and its surroundings were forever preserved, unlike its mortal world counterpart. There it was long bereft of caretakers, and had been looted many times over. Eric could never bring himself to go there, not wanting his memories of this place diminished in any way.

"This is the Temple where the Ancient Pythoness resided," Bill remarked.

Eric merely nodded his head.

"Is the oracle here?" Compton asked.

"Yes. Sookie is also here," Eric responded, intentionally shifting Bill's curiosity, and knowing he would discover this much anyway. "She is resting."

Bill did not seem overly startled, "Is she well?"

"She is."

Without further questioning, Bill fell back into his own silent contemplation, which was just as Eric intended. However, any peace was about to be quickly interrupted. They entered the courtyard, and Eric found himself nearly pounced upon by the Witch.

"Alright, Mr. Tall Blond and Dead, care to explain to me what the _hell_ is going on? I was having a lovely dream, at home, snuggled in my nice warm bed. Then I wake up and am nearly knocked over by a sheer magnitude of energy and magick, the likes of which I have _never_ encountered," she spat, poking him in the chest.

Eric lowered his eyes to her with an icy stare, "Be silent, Witch."

She gaped at him, and looked about to retort, when Pam stepped up and placed a hand on her shoulder. Thank Hlin for his Child. He brushed past Amelia, leaving Pam to calm her, and proceeded toward the far more calm shifters seated near the fountain.

Sam rose and inclined his head, "Northman."

"Merlotte," Eric nodded in return.

The two had reached a new level of understanding before Eric left Louisiana. He'd placed Sookie in Sam's care, knowing he was the best suited for the task. In truth, Eric hadn't expected he would return from Romania, or if he did, it would be long after Sookie's death. He'd closed out all his affairs quickly, leaving all he owned to Sookie, with Merlotte as executor of the trust until his final death was confirmed. She would not have spent a dime of his money if he was still rising each night, and Sam would make sure she was provided for both in protection and needs.

"Sookie is upstairs resting," Eric said, trying the same tack he had with Bill.

Merlotte nodded, not pressing him further. As shifters went, he was one of few Eric had some measure of respect for, though he still had every intention of getting Sookie out of his pit of a bar. Eric found her work there demeaning and completely inappropriate to her position as his bonded. Now he had even more reason to steer her away from that life, as all of her efforts would need to be refocused toward her new path.

He continued past Sam, finally making his way toward the staircase, leaving Pam to keep the rest calm until Rachal or Phemonoe arrived. His Child would know to do this without a word needed from him. As a vampire, she was by far one of his greatest achievements. If she had been lost the night of the battle, Eric would have been devastated. She was irreplaceable.

The tension left his body the moment his eyes fell upon his bonded, sleeping peacefully where he'd left her. He moved silently to the bed, lying down beside her, and molding himself around her from behind. Watching her sleep always eased his mind, as if he could sink into the innocence of her dreams, letting the waves of her love wash over him, settling his soul. He allowed himself to slip into 'downtime', as she called it, savoring the last moments of calm he may have for some time.

_I will not fail you, my beloved._

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: We're back to Sookie's POV this chapter. I'm sorry my updates have been a bit slower than usual. I've been writing pretty much non-stop since I began Dead to Rights back in late November. I think that pace has finally caught up with me, so I hope you can all forgive me a possible day in between updates here and there. My regular proofreader has also been sick, so please don't kill me if the grammar isn't 100%.

Your reviews continue to inspire (and often make me bust a gut laughing). Thank you so much, and on with the madness!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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I've only had a hangover twice in my life. The first time was when Jason, Tara, Hoyt and I had gotten drunk in the woods behind Gran's house after a football game in high school. Jason had raided the coach's secret 'stash' he kept in his office just off the locker room. I was the one who'd put up the biggest fight about participating, so naturally I ended up being the one bent over a bush, puking my guts out. The one good thing about that was it prevented Hoyt from acting on his own lusty, drunken, teenage boy thoughts with me.

The second time wasn't long before vampire Bill first walked into Merlotte's. Arlene was enjoying a rare night away from the kids (her mother had them for the weekend), and we'd stayed up late at my house, watching sappy chick flicks. She'd blended up some fruity concoction that did a fine job of masking the taste of the various liquors it also contained. I woke up the next morning face down on my back stoop. Don't ask me how I got there.

Those two hangovers; with their cotton-mouthed, splitting headache, can't stand the light, feel like you got run over by a Mack truck symptoms, were nothing compared to the way I felt as I woke in that bed in a mystical oasis nestled in the Egyptian desert. Luckily for me, it was only moments later I was sucking down the liquid that could not only heal a gunshot wound, but apparently could also kick the worst hangover known to man.

"Erf," I muttered after releasing Eric's bleeding wrist, flopping back down onto the pillows.

His blue eyes sparkled down at me as he chuckled, seated next to me on the edge of the bed. "Will you survive, my delicate princess?" he smirked.

I stuck my tongue out at him as I stretched, "Hey, some of us aren't professionals at dealing with energy sucking, giant balls of exploding light."

Eric roared with that laugh I can't help but smile at, his blond mane dancing around those perfect, broad shoulders. "I assure you, lover, it is new for both of us."

"You could've fooled me, you sure seemed like you knew what you were doing. Another... educated guess?" I snorted.

He grinned, "Something like that."

Eric reached out, brushing the back of his hand across my cheek. I was surprised he hadn't jumped me yet, considering I'd just drunk his blood, and there was no bigger turn on to a vampire that I knew of. I'd certainly felt his lust through the bond, but at the same time, he seemed distracted.

"Okay," I sighed, "Tell me."

He took my hand in his, looking pensive as he held my gaze, "Lover, I need you to search your memory for me. When we made our wish, as you called it, what were you thinking about?"

I tensed a bit, "Just what you told me to... I wished for time for us to figure out what to do."

His thumb lightly stroked the inside of my palm, soothing me, "What did that mean to you?"

I bit my lip, trying to recall what I'd really been thinking at the time. When you're used to hearing people's thoughts on a regular basis, you learn pretty quick how oddly our inner thought patterns actually work. In the blink of an eye you can go from point A to point Z, each stop along the way being a zig zag of seeming randomness, but ultimately adding up to the end point of a thought.

"Well, I was thinking about wanting time... and that we were already out of it before Amelia, Elana and I had begun to act on our plan, since you were having your trial that very night... I wondered if Pam, Bill, and Victor had already had theirs... I thought if we had a bit more time, then we could get Sam or Tray to find the shifter mole and still save you in time..." I trailed off, suddenly feeling apprehensive. "I messed up, didn't I?"

Eric pulled me into his arms, stroking my back softly, "No, lover. I should have been more clear with you. You did nothing wrong."

"Then why do I feel like you just got the answer to a very disturbing question?" I asked, sensing some resignation through the bond.

He cupped my face in his hands, and I melted from his gaze, that perfect mix of strength and tenderness that was my Eric. "There have been some... unexpected side effects. However, they are ones that I think will please you."

He smiled, leaning in for a soft, lingering kiss that turned me into a gooey, boneless mass in his arms. They say every vampire has a special talent, and I swear Eric's was kissing. Okay, I knew it was flight, but his kisses could surely make the gods weep. They sure as heck could make me forget everything, including my own name.

As Eric pulled away from the kiss, I felt myself leaning forward, trying to recapture his lips. To my dismay, he only took my hand, prompting me to my feet, "Come, lover."

"Eric, I'm all bed-head and ruffled. Where are we going?" I asked, my tone a bit more whiny than I'd intended.

He paused, casting his gaze appreciatively over me, "Actually, you look as beautiful as ever."

Eric guided me over to a floor length, standing mirror, and I gasped. Sure enough, I looked as though I'd just gotten ready. My braids were still perfect, dress looking like it was fresh from the closet, and my skin appeared fresh and glowing.

"Wow," I breathed.

He winked at me in the mirror, leading me by the hand toward the stairs. Of all the weirdness I'd encountered lately, I suppose this was pretty minor in comparison. I wondered if Amelia knew some spell that could duplicate that trick. As we descended the staircase, I heard a sound of trickling water, like from a fountain, mixed with a din of hushed voices. I think my jaw literally fell on the floor when we reached the courtyard, and I took in the gathered crowd.

Before I could think I was squealing, running up to each one of them, even Victor, throwing my arms around them in a massive hug. The sight and feel of them flooded me with waves of relief I could never have anticipated. I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, I still believed all of this had been either a dream, or that I was maybe even dead. Now things somehow seemed more real.

The vampires, of course, were a bit stiffened by my touchy-feely actions, but I didn't care. I was just so elated to see them, to know they were safe. Amelia squeezed me back so hard I thought my eyeballs might pop out of their sockets. She seemed as nervous and overwhelmed as I had been when I first arrived in Romania. I whispered to her that everything would be okay, even though I still had no idea if that was true.

The last person I came to was Sam. I sank into the warmth of his arms, mine wrapped tight around his neck. Sam had been my rock while Eric was gone, holding me together as no one else could have. He'd always known just how to be there for me, and had been time and time again for so many years. His hands rested gently on the small of my back as I hugged him for all I was worth.

Suddenly, Sam flinched back a little. Through the bond I felt an odd mix of emotions coming from Eric; curiosity, jealousy, and even a hint of... lust? Had I held onto Sam a bit too long? I was just happy to see him. Really happy. A warm, tingly kind of happy. Okay, that's way too much happiness. Where in the world did that come from? Was I... purring?

Sam was giving me a very odd look, "Sookie?"

I felt that smile plastering onto my face and my skin flushing with embarrassment. I quickly stepped a safe distance away, moving back to Eric's side. He cocked a questioning eyebrow down at me, though I didn't feel any anger coming from him. I glanced around nervously, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Oh, they had.

"I... I'm just so happy to see y'all!" I stammered, realizing my Louisiana drawl had become far more pronounced. Great, another vampire trait rubbing off on me.

Thankfully, Rachal chose that moment to arrive on the scene, and her beauty naturally distracted all eyes from me. All except Eric and Sam, that is. Looking back and forth between them, I suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to just slink back up the stairs and hide under the covers. Sam's sage green eyes had grown more intense somehow, staring at me almost like I was a big, juicy steak. Even more strange was that Eric wasn't bursting into a rage or growling with jealousy, but rather looking at me with an amused smirk. I shuffled my weight back and forth on my feet, wishing like hell all this madness would just stop already. If this was what an acid trip felt like, I was glad I'd always 'just said no'. I was broken from my thoughts by Rachal's lilting voice.

"Welcome, all of you," she glanced up for a moment at Eric. They seemed to exchange a few silent words, and I saw him nod to her. She continued, "My name is Rachal, and I bring you greetings from Phemonoe, whom some of you know as the Pythoness. She regrets she is not here to personally welcome you to her realm, but she is currently in consultation."

Consultation? I wondered if that was some code word for 'having crazy visions'.

"As soon as she is able, she will come and speak with all of you. She begs your patience, and encourages all of you to take respite and enjoy the comforts of the Oasis," Rachal said with a smile.

As if on cue, several servants entered the courtyard, carrying trays of food and bottles of wine, honey mead, and presumably blood. They set them all on one of the low walls that ringed the circular, stone patio, along with goblets and small plates. Well heck, it was almost like a regular buffet, though this sure wasn't Shoney's.

Rachal would have made a perfect Southern hostess. She glided back and forth amongst us, asking if we needed anything, offering words of comfort. I was very aware of the calming influence she had on everyone, having experienced it myself. An air of serenity just seemed to follow her everywhere. Sure enough, everyone soon seemed far more at ease, drinking or eating, carrying on polite conversation.

Eric had gone over to talk with Pam, and I was just about to head toward Amelia, when I felt a hand lightly gripping mine from behind. I turned around to Sam's piercing gaze, immediately feeling myself flush.

"Sookie..." he said in a low, but rather serious tone. "What was that?"

He was close enough that I caught his familiar scent, woodsy and earthy and entirely masculine. His hand was warm as it continued to clutch mine. I felt like the air temperature had shot up a good ten degrees.

"What was what?" I asked lamely.

I couldn't understand the reaction my body seemed to be having to his touch. Granted, Sam had starred in a few of my best fantasies in the past, but that was long ago. I was in love with a virtual Viking vampire sex god, for heavens' sake. What I shared with Eric was beyond my wildest dreams, and believe me, I've had some doosies. Sam was my boss and my best friend, and I was perfectly content for it to never go further than that. So why in the hell was I suddenly feeling the urge to jump him?

"You know damn well what," he growled. "Are you getting some sick pleasure out of toying with me?"

"Sam Merlotte!" I spat. "How dare you!"

Sam looked ready to lunge right at me when I heard Eric's voice behind me and felt his hands on my shoulders.

"Is there a problem, lover?"

Before I could respond, Sam had already dropped my hand, and was walking off toward the horizon, away from the group. I stared after him, nearly dumbfounded. Eric gently spun me around, that same grin still on his smug face.

"What?!" I huffed up at him.

"I am curious when my lover began making animal mating calls," he said with far too much amusement.

"Eric!"

He pressed my back up against the wall of the building, shielding us from the curious onlookers. "Sookie," he said, a bit more seriously. "That noise you made while hugging the shifter was the equivalent of offering yourself to him. Actually, more like begging. It would be like you going up to Bill and slicing your wrist open right in his face."

_Blink blink_.

"I cannot say I am terribly pleased about it, but I can tell from your obvious confusion that it was not intentional," he continued.

I just stared up at him. Stunned, shocked, whatever. I'm forgetting what it feels like to be anything else at this point.

"Well, we will add that to the list of things we need to discuss later on," he said in that oh so pragmatic way. "For now, I suggest you keep your distance from the shifter. I need to speak with Rachal, will you be alright on your own for more than five minutes, Dear One?" he smirked.

I glared at him, but didn't fight as he engulfed me in a tight hug, chuckling all the while. I don't think I will ever understand how Eric can be so damned calm about everything all the time. I suppose I should partially be glad for it, since he didn't tear Sam to shreds, but it just irked me to no end that nothing ever seemed to phase him. At least, not for very long.

I kicked at the dirt with my foot for a few minutes after Eric went to find his sister, needing a bit of time to compose myself. If what Eric said was true, I felt awful for it. I knew Sam had a thing for me, he had for a long time, but I would never intentionally play with his heart. He must be furious with me. How do I always manage to get myself into these messes?

Well, regardless of what Eric said, I needed to find Sam. I had to try to explain, somehow, that it wasn't my fault. I couldn't risk losing Sam's friendship and hurting him after all he'd done for me. Aside from Eric, he was probably the most important person in my life. Though not in the way he might want me to, I did love him.

Taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I headed off in the direction Sam had gone. I'd find him and make this right. Even though it was dark, the emerald glow from the temple was enough to see my way across the endless sand, following Sam's footprints. As I looked back and forth between his tracks and the horizon, I startled for a moment. I'd swear I saw two brighter green glows for a split second. I rubbed my eyes, looking around, the lights having gone. I sighed, too used to the weirdness at this point to give it a second thought, and continued off into the desert.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I get so giddy with your reviews, especially when you all yell at me for what you think is coming. Truly, it tickles me to no end. Since when do I do what's expected, hmm? Seriously, I love them, you guys give me ideas all the time and don't even realize it. Thank you for being so supportive of this story, it means the world to me! Alright, who's ready for a little action? ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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_Well, now you've gone and put yourself in quite the pickle, haven't you?_

I'd been traipsing through the desert for what felt like at least an hour, having lost Sam's tracks probably thirty minutes ago, when they seemed to just abruptly stop by a cactus plant. I'd searched around in circles trying to find where they picked back up, intending to stay close enough that I could follow the trail back to the oasis. Apparently I didn't do such a hot job of that, because as I now swept my eyes around, I could see no footprints, nor the cactus.

_Way to go, Stackhouse._

With a heavy sigh I flopped down onto the sand, quite content to sit and pout. I wasn't all that concerned about being lost, it would be easy enough for Eric to find me, but my pride was currently preventing me from just calling to him through the bond. I felt utterly stupid. How many times could I get indignant with my friends for coddling me like a baby, when I clearly seemed to need it. How many times could I get mad at Eric for insisting I needed protectors, when I was obviously so incapable of making intelligent decisions. He'd told me to stay away from Sam for now, and what had I done? I'd gone wandering off into a freaking endless desert to find him, after having apparently baited him with some sort of... mating call I wasn't even aware of!

_Gee, Sookie, maybe everything isn't just weirdness you should ignore._

How is it I failed to even consider the 'why' of my behavior before just charging off? Because I never think, I just act. Ugh, I really do have the impulse control of a child. No matter how much I seem to think I'm growing up and getting smarter, I always seem to wind up right back where I started; Sookie Stackhouse – Danger Magnet, Extraordinaire.

_More like idiot, extraordinaire._

Okay, mentally berating myself is not going to help. I need to stop pouting and think, try to put the pieces together like Eric does. Except, Eric has hundreds of years of experience and knowledge that he can use to draw conclusions that would never even occur to me...

_That doesn't sound familiar or anything, isn't that exactly what he's been trying to tell you when he asks you to trust his judgment?_

Now I'm sitting here just talking to myself. Yeah, this is terribly productive. Some divine child I make! Wait, did I just admit to believing that nonsense? Is it nonsense? I'm in a mystical desert; surrounded by vampires, shapeshifters, witches, nymphs, prophetesses, and daemons; a place time apparently stands still, and I've had giant energy balls of light explode from my hands. I've learned the origins of vampires and legends of gods. Eric and I seem to have some shared destiny, and together can wield a power I can't begin to understand. All these things are the stuff of myth and fantasy, yet here it all is right in front of me, as real as I am.

"Sookie..."

The way he growled my name was deep and laced with desire like I'd never heard from him. It ran through me like gasoline being poured on a spark, igniting within my lower abdomen, causing an involuntary moan to escape my lips. I rose slowly to my feet, turning to him, his green eyes blazing with want as he stood mere inches from me.

"Sam..." I breathed, barely recognizing my own voice. It was tinged with that sound... that purr.

My mind was getting hazy, rational thought leaving me. The sight of him, bare chested, under the glow of the moon was almost too much for me to bear. Why did I want him? Oh god, did I want him. His lips were so close to mine I could feel his breath, rocketing waves of shivers and lust through me. This wasn't right. My hands were reaching for him in spite of myself. His eyes weren't just filled with lust. He looked almost... possessed, somehow.

We were tangled around each other before I knew it, kissing with a ferocity that would leave our lips swollen and bruised. _God he feels so good... so warm._ My fingernails tore into his back, gouging his flesh as he pushed us down to the sand, crushing me beneath him. My body was screaming at me to bring him inside.

_Must. Have. Her. MINE!_

Sam's thoughts hit me like a ton of bricks, my eyes flying open. Oh my god, what was I doing?! I strained to focus my mind, to somehow ignore the lust and need that seemed to possess me. This is not me... I am not feeling this... something is doing this to us... or some_one_.

"Avel..." I growled.

Those two green glows I'd seen on the way here... the bastard was watching me. He hates Eric... wants me away from him... maybe even wants him dead. He's doing this, I know it! Sam was still clawing at me, laying his lips and hands all over my body, and I knew I was only moments away from giving in. I had to stop this...

"Sam!" I screamed, slapping at his face to try to wake him from whatever power had us in its sway.

He wasn't phased, working to free himself from his jeans... and god did my body want him. My libido was practically begging me to give in. He smelled so amazing, the heat of him on top of me driving me mad with want, along with the stream of nonstop thoughts of fucking me coming from his mind. Surely Eric could feel this... why isn't he here? My legs were twining around Sam's waist, trying to pull him in...

_MineminemineminemineMINE!!!!_

I gritted my teeth, managing to force my feet back under him, and kicked with all my might, screaming, "Not yours!!! I belong to Eric!!!"

Sam went flying backward off of me, landing on his back with a thud. I scrambled quickly to my feet, fighting my urge to just jump right back on top of him. I felt like my body was practically being ripped in half as my mind struggled for control over the forces trying to lurch me back to Sam. He was already back up, ready to pounce on me again. I was suddenly overcome with another wave of influence, a new force, and I found myself crying out...

"Show yourself you daemon bastard!"

Several agonizing seconds passed. I watched Sam shaking himself, like he was trying to clear the fog from his brain. Apparently my shriek had given him pause, at least for the moment. I scanned all around, looking for those tell-tale eyes.

Another wave of strength ran through me, and this time I realized what it was. Eric was close. He'd been following me this whole time. _Oh god, Eric... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ My thoughts were met with another, more forceful rush of strength. He needed something from me, I could feel it. He was keyed up, ready to attack... but it wasn't Sam he wanted to fight. Then, I understood.

Feeling a bit more in control, I took a deep breath, calling out into the night. "I mean it! I am done letting you decide my fate! Show yourself, you coward!"

I heard his icy tone moments before he finally appeared. "You can never just make things easy on yourself, can you?"

I narrowed my eyes at the daemon, who still looked like Victor, except for those eyes. "Easy on _you_, you mean," I spat. I noticed, from the corner of my eye, that Sam seemed to have fallen unconscious the moment the daemon appeared. I kept talking, hoping to keep him distracted. "What's this little game about, Avel? Why in the hell are you trying to get me to sleep with Sam of all people?!"

Avel began that odd pacing I recalled from our first meeting, where he strolled about, idly examining our surroundings like each pebble had some special significance. "I thought you'd be pleased with my choice. Wouldn't you rather conceive with a friend than a stranger?"

"Con... conceive?! Are you insane?!"

He waved a hand dismissively, "It is the only way now. You clearly cannot control yourself. The line _must_ continue, and it will, with or without your consent. You might as well make it a somewhat pleasant experience."

"So _that's_ what this is about? You think I'm useless for whatever ... _divine_ plan your high and mighty gods have, so you're going to use me as a baby factory?!" I hissed, spewing each word like venom. I knew Eric was extremely close, and I had to somehow keep control of myself, despite every nerve in my body wanting to explode with rage. I was done being their pawn.

Avel chuckled, "A factory? No. Just once, my dear. After the child is born, you will be relieved of further responsibility. You can go back to your little town, and your bloodsucker, and get yourself killed, as you seem so intent on doing."

It was at that moment that Avel found himself being grabbed from behind, and a strange, curved blade being held to his throat.

"The only one who will be getting killed is you, _daemon_. Now; release the shifter," Eric snarled into his ear.

For someone who was seconds away from having their throat slit, I sure didn't like the smirk on Avel's face. Something wasn't right here. I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could, Eric's howl pierced through the silence. I watched in wide-eyed horror as he was suddenly yanked backward, a silver chain having been flung around his neck.

"Eric!" I screamed.

Avel had me in his grasp before I could take a step. Eric was on his knees, a second silver chain being thrown around his mid section, pinning his arms against him. At the other end, holding his bindings... was Elana, laughing maniacally.

"Not so tough now, are you, Viking?" she grinned at him.

I fought and kicked and screamed with all my might, trying desperately to break free of Avel's grasp. I couldn't believe this was happening, and I screamed for Sam, who remained lifeless on the ground. Eric looked up at me, his eyes full of pain and regret. _No, Eric... No!_ Then I saw Elana's hand arcing upward... a stake in her grasp...

"Noooooooooooo!" I heard myself shrieking, feeling my entire body crumpling.

As her swing reached the top of its apex, preparing to drive downward, a hand suddenly shot out, grabbing her wrist. In one swift motion, her arm was being thrust back toward her, driving the stake into her chest. In a vampire second she disintegrated right before my eyes, me staring in disbelief.

"Did you really think I was that easily manipulated?" a cool voice mocked the pile of ash that was Elana.

Bill! Oh, thank you, thank you, God!

Bill ripped off his shirt to cover his hands, unwinding the silver from Eric in a flash of vampire speed. I'd already resumed my struggle against Avel, trying to wrench myself from his grasp. He was standing stock still, his grip around me steadfast. I thought maybe he was in shock that his plan had been foiled, and I knew Eric and Bill would both be on him in a matter of moments. This nightmare was about to end.

Oh, but that would be far too easy. As Eric rose back to his full height, retrieving his blade from the sand, the bond was suddenly jolted by a wave of... fatigue. Bill and Eric both collapsed to their knees, beginning to frantically dig into the sand. I screamed at them, trying to snap them out of whatever fresh hell Avel was unleashing on us now... until I realized what was happening...

The sky was getting lighter... the sun... was rising.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I want to send a special thanks out to Boadicea for the brilliant (and hysterical) review left after last chapter. If you all haven't read it, you must, it is pure evil genius (which we all know I appreciate). And thank you to all of you who continue to read and send words of encouragement!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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I had no time to ponder how the sun could be rising in a place where time seemed to stand still and had to go with the obvious; that Avel was somehow responsible. The sun was rising far too rapidly for it to be a naturally occurring process, Bill and Eric using every ounce of their vampire speed to try and burrow under the sand. I felt Eric's fatigue growing heavier and heavier by the second, and I knew they weren't going to make it. My options were limited and time was running out.

I ceased struggling against Avel's grasp. "Stop. I want to negotiate."

"Negotiate?" Avel chuckled, pausing for a moment. "Alright, little one, I'll indulge you."

The sky began to shift, and if I'd had any doubt this sunrise was unnatural, they were quickly erased. Sunlight flooded down on Avel and I like a spotlight, and we were ringed in a perimeter of darkness. It reminded me of a tiny break in the clouds during a terrible storm, where the sun manages to peek through for a moment. Eric and Bill slowly rose to their feet, safe for the time being, but held at bay by the light surrounding me. I half wondered if the sunlight was even real or just some illusion. Would they really burn if they attempted to cross the strange barricade Avel had erected? I could feel Eric's mind churning over the same question, and knew it was only a matter of time until he would make a move. Now that his instinctual response to the sun was able to take a backseat, his chess master's mind was quickly moving the pieces to find a solution... if there was one.

"Go ahead, Viking, test it for yourself. I will enjoy watching you burn," Avel taunted.

Eric growled, his voice more dangerous than I'd ever heard. "I will see your head separated from your neck before this is over."

I knew immediately that Eric's words were meant more for me than Avel. He was telling me the method by which to kill him. Even though I lacked the means currently, I felt sure Eric was formulating a plan to get that curved blade into my hands. I would need to play along and stall for time.

"Rule one for these negotiations," Avel chuckled, "the dead do not speak."

"I'm perfectly capable of negotiating for myself," I spat, using my best 'indignant child' tone. I figured if I sounded in the midst of a tantrum it would not only be a good distraction, but would keep Avel from realizing I was in sync with Eric, ready to act on any subtle signs he gave.

"Of course you are, Sookie. Now," he said, setting me down but keeping a firm grip on my shoulder. "I certainly do not wish to make this unpleasant for you and would much prefer your cooperation. You do make an annoying habit of stumbling your way into thwarting my endeavors. Make no mistake, however, I will have your compliance one way or another."

I raised a brow, "Oh? I'm real interested to hear this, how exactly have I managed to mess up the plans of the great and powerful Avel? Was I not supposed to pay attention to the daemon behind the curtain? This place does kinda remind me of Emerald City." My voice dripped with sarcasm as I tried to bait him into a diatribe, and I heard Bill snort in amusement. Eric was sending immense waves of calm at me through the bond, hoping to prevent me from having another uncontrolled 'meltdown'. As it stood, there was no way he could physically get to me should I start... exploding.

Avel, however, was neither amused, nor was he going to take the bait. "You gained your Viking a small reprieve when you disrupted the tribunal guaranteed to result in his final death. I suggest you make good use of it, my patience is wearing thin."

Whatever sense of calm I had was erased in that instant, the meaning of his words sinking in. Sure enough, I began to feel the telltale signs that my control was about to be tested. As my jaw tightened and fists began to clench, I willed myself to take a deep breath. This was a battle I could not afford to lose.

"You..." I snarled. "You planted the witness."

How this hadn't already occurred to me reminded me once again that I was no more than a guppy in an ocean of sharks. Avel was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything, including the future of an entire species, just to see that the destiny he so firmly believed in came to pass. No wonder Eric followed me all the way out here, he must have known what Avel was up to the moment I started making those noises at Sam. It explained why he wasn't angry with me... he was letting it happen to draw Avel out and he could kill him.

"Yes, Sookie. The tiger was more than accommodating when I explained my plan to disentangle you from the bloodsuckers. His sister was perfect for the role and more than willing to play it."

The burst of calm Eric thrust at me in that instant was enough to make me collapse to my knees, the rage inside me now building to the breaking point. Quinn. He hadn't disappeared due to injury or some nefarious persons... he was hiding out! He couldn't risk being discovered as a traitor yet again if he ever wanted to draw another breath. Of course Avel could talk Quinn and Frannie into this scheme; they blamed vampires for the miserable hands they'd been dealt time and time again. He probably planned to try and swoop back in and reclaim me once Eric was...

The lid on my rage was threatening to blow at any moment. Eric was trying desperately to hold it down as much as he could, sending wave after wave of soothing calm through the bond. I clutched at my chest, my heart racing so fast I thought I might have a heart attack and die right there in the desert. From the corner of my eye I saw a glint of metal. Eric was so desperate he was ready to just throw his blade to me and hope I could make use of it. I wasn't even sure I could stand, much less attack Avel. Keeping the energy inside me from bursting and possibly killing us all was taking every ounce of strength in me, and I thought instead of exploding, keeping it in might just make me implode.

Eric broke his silence then, and though his voice was commanding and forceful, the underlying desperation terrified me. "Enough of this! She's no good to you dead!"

Avel crouched down in front of me, grabbing my chin in his hand, forcing my eyes to his. "You see now? You are incapable of control. Blame that damned fairy for bringing you to this point. Do as I say and you will soon be free of this!"

I gasped for breath, narrowing my eyes hatefully at him. "I am not your pawn. I'd rather die than give you the satisfaction."

"Not much of a negotiator, are you?" Avel hissed.

His eyes began to take on that green glow, and I remembered how he penetrated my mind that night at Bill's. He may not be able to control whatever forces were at work in me, but I knew damn well he could just render me unconscious, which amounted to pretty much the same thing. His 'voice' began to tear through my mind.

_I am not evil, Sookie. You have been dealt a raw deal. I would much rather see this play out in a manner least unpleasant for you. I have no desire to cause you pain, but I will do what is necessary. Cooperate, and I'll return your friends to their pathetic lives. Refuse, and the tribunal will play out. They will die and you will still be facing the same fate. It is your choice._

"Sookie, no!" Eric bellowed, apparently having heard Avel through the bond.

Suddenly Eric was howling in pain, and I managed to turn my head enough to witness the horror Avel was inflicting. Suspended off the ground by some invisible force, Eric had been pulled into the light. Smoke wafted off his skin as it began to char and burn, a look of torture strangling his beautiful face. Bill reached out, burning his own arms in the process, trying to pull him back into the darkness, but to no avail.

I grabbed desperately onto Avel's arm, trying to will my body to fight, but only ending up face down in the sand. I was spent, barely clinging to consciousness, having used up all the strength in me to contain myself. I struggled to push up, but my muscles refused to budge, Eric's screams falling on my ears as if they were my own.

_Make your choice, Sookie._

_Swear to me... swear to me that they will be safe._

_I swear it._

In this timeless place, my time had run out. Avel may have called it a choice, but he'd seen to it that I'd come to the end of the line. We'd been outplayed. The memory of kneeling before Eric on the roof of the temple, offering my life to him, came rushing back. It was time to put up or shut up, as Jason would say. There was never any doubt in my mind, nor any of theirs, what I would do.

_Please... let me say goodbye._

The howling stopped. I felt my chin being lifted, my gaze directed toward Eric collapsed on the sand, still held from my reach by the boundary of light and darkness. The burns were gone, but I could tell he was still reeling from the agony of it.

"Eric..." I whispered.

The torment in my beautiful Viking's eyes tore at my soul. "Sookie, do not do this," he pleaded.

I offered him a smile, begging him to understand. "I love you, Eric."

The last thing I heard were Eric's cries. Then, they all disappeared, and I was left alone with my captor in the middle of a desert, completely out of their reach. The moment Avel sent them home, my connection to Eric through the bond ceased, and I felt an emptiness that I was sure would swallow me whole. Somehow I knew that, in all probability, I would never see them again. I released what little hold I had left on myself, allowing my mind and body to give up, dragged under into a dreamless sleep. I didn't know if I would ever wake up.

_**End Part 1... to be continued...**_


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Alright, alright, put down the torches and pitchforks. I had intended to give myself a few days to breathe, but began to fear for my personal safety if I left you all hanging. Because of this, the chapter is a bit shorter than I'd originally intended, but I thought you'd prefer that to the wait. Let it never be said the evil cliffhanger queen can't occasionally be nice, ha ha!

Part two of Left For Dead will be entirely from Eric's POV (unless otherwise indicated). Thanks, as always, for the reviews (even though some of them cause me to seriously consider restraining orders). I hope you continue to enjoy my warped brain.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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**Left For Dead – Part II**

Hummingbird Lane was deserted, as usual, when Eric Northman guided the BMW over the familiar, crunching gravel driveway. Throwing the rental car in park and cutting the engine, he allowed himself a few moments just to take in the sight of the darkened old farmhouse. He knew every angle, every cracked step, every tree in the yard as well as he knew his own mind. The images of it would be forever burned into his memory, just as she would.

He exited the car into the still night, gliding silently up the steps to the back door, fishing the keys from the pocket of his jeans. The lock yielded and soon he was in the kitchen, headed for the refrigerator. Thankfully, the Witch had remembered to stock it for him this evening. He didn't bother to heat the True Blood, taking it straight into the empty living room where he settled onto the sofa. Eric clicked on the television just as the ball in Times Square was making its descent, the announcer proclaiming the new year had officially begun.

**"All of us here at channel 5 wish you a happy and healthy 2015!"**

He took a swig of his drink, hardly registering the foul taste of what barely passed for sustenance, and hit the power button on the television remote. His eyes focused on nothing in particular as he sat in the dark, listening to the creaking of the old house. This would be the last New Year's Eve he'd spend here.

Seven years had passed since that night in the desert. In a few weeks she'd be legally declared dead, and the worthless brother would own her home. Eric offered him a ridiculous sum of money to purchase it, but he'd refused, saying he would never see his family's heritage in the hands of a bloodsucker. He intended to use it as a vacation rental now that Amelia had married Dawson and would be moving out. It took every ounce of restraint Eric possessed not to kill him.

He rose from the couch, setting the bottle down on the coffee table and moving to the fireplace. There was no wood, but he'd make do with his memories of the flames as he lowered himself to the floor. He methodically recalled every detail of the talks they'd had here, playing them like a movie in his mind.

A human court pronouncing her dead mattered not to him. He would never give up his search for her. She was still out there... somewhere. The bond may be blocked, the center wrapped in a haze he could not penetrate, but it was not gone. His other half was still alive, hidden from his sight, but never from his soul.

They'd all woken in Fangtasia that night seven years ago, sprawled out in heaps across the floor of the bar. He'd been surprised to see Merlotte was with them, having expected he'd be kept behind to complete Avel's plan. Eric had debated with himself many times whether or not his being there was a good thing. He worked hard at not thinking about what might be happening to his bonded. There was no point in doing so. Finding her was the only priority, any aftermath of her time held prisoner could be dealt with.

He told most of them as little as necessary, revealing only that she had been taken by a daemon for reasons unknown. The only one who knew the full story was Bill. Eric knew him to be the only other who would dedicate himself tirelessly to finding her; Bill's motivations came from the same place Eric's did, and in time he had revealed everything to him. Certainly the others would do what they could, but they would eventually lose faith. Pam would do whatever was asked of her for as long as it was asked, but in time she too would grow weary of it. They would all want to grieve and move on.

Avel did make good on his promise to Sookie. The very next night an 'anonymous' tipster sent video to a local news station which showed the Fellowship committing the attacks. It was done in the style of a training video for their followers, complete with instructions on how to make bodies appear to be the victims of vampires. The tribunal was called off, Phemonoe having made some explanation for their sudden disappearance, and Edgington and Victor entered the limelight as the new spokesmen for the AVL. Eric had refused to be used as some public relations puppet. He did, however, make certain that the tiger and his sister met a slow and torturous death at his hands.

His Maker had no explanations for where Avel was or what he'd done with Sookie. She had also lost contact with Rachal, but seemed certain she still occupied her lake near the Temple. Like Eric, Phemonoe had been shuttered from the crossroads, unable to return to her realm. Of course, her take on that couldn't have been farther from Eric's. She believed this was all part of Amun's great plan, and if they remained faithful, all would be revealed in time. Eric must have destroyed every piece of furniture in that chamber in Egypt where she'd taken up temporary residence, his rage having reached the breaking point. In the end he'd disavowed her, saying if she ever called to him she would meet the edge of his blade. She'd let him go without a word, perhaps knowing better than to test his resolve, but more likely because she knew his pain.

Brigant was only slightly more helpful. When Eric contacted him through Claudine, Niall said only that he would also search for Sookie, but did not expect to find her. He suspected the daemon would bring her to his own realm, situated between the mortal and divine spheres, a place none of them could access. He seemed convinced Avel's attempts to have his Great Granddaughter conceive would be unsuccessful, but refused to elaborate on the reasons. In later years they theorized together that this might indeed be the case, and the reason she had not been returned. Niall feared what would happen should Avel finally give up.

Eric growled as he felt the vibration of his cell phone in his pocket. Pulling it out and looking at the caller ID, he flicked it open with no small measure of annoyance.

"This better be important, Pam."

"Your Majesty, forgive me, I know you do not wish to be disturbed this evening. I received a call from Bill regarding that investment opportunity in Venice, and he says it is most urgent you join him there as soon as possible."

Pam only addressed him by his formal title when she was nervous of his temper, so Eric knew whatever this crisis was, it was important enough for her to risk disturbing him tonight. When Eric realized finding his bonded would be no small task, he'd quickly accepted Russell's offer to take over Louisiana. As King he would have the entire state's vampire population at his disposal for his search and any possible rescue mission, and he would not need to concern himself over keeping a ruler content with him. Every vampire in Louisiana knew the rewards would be enormous should they find information as to his missing bonded's whereabouts. In addition, new doors would be open to him, new contacts made, and his status throughout the supernatural community elevated. He'd taken advantage of it many times over already, having visited with numerous scholars and powerful beings, trying to determine a way to enter Avel's realm. Though his attempts thus far had been fruitless, he would continue to work his contacts for new avenues to pursue.

"I assume negotiations over the database are breaking down?" he sighed.

Pam replied hesitantly, "That is the impression I got from Bill. Apparently King Bianchi is rather... eccentric in his business acumen."

Eric rolled his eyes. He was more than familiar with Antonio's 'eccentricities' – it was a polite way of saying the vampire was a greedy bastard. Not long after Eric became King, Bill had begun traveling the world to sell his database, adding to it along the way. It was merely an excuse to search for clues to Sookie's whereabouts, providing logical reasons for him to enter the kingdoms of other vampires without too many questions. He and Eric had agreed on this plan, keeping in regular contact about leads Bill uncovered which Eric could then act upon. Over the years they'd gone from being respected colleagues to something Eric might almost describe as friends. They never spoke of Bill saving him from Elana's stake, but Eric knew he would one day return the favor.

"Make the arrangements. I'll leave from Shreveport tomorrow evening, no reason for me to return to New Orleans," he instructed his second in command.

"Already done, Your Majesty. You leave on Anubis at 6:40pm. Bill has arranged for your transport upon your arrival in Venice."

Eric flicked the phone shut, returning it to his pocket, hoping nothing else would interrupt his evening. He allowed himself this one night each year to dedicate his thoughts solely to her. There were many who, if in his shoes, would have crumbled long ago, but Eric was never one for wallowing or self-pity. He was a vampire of purpose and action, driven to succeed in any endeavors he undertook. Whether as simple as fucking a woman to the point of insanity, or as complex as the political maneuvering during a vampire summit, Eric expected no less than perfection from himself.

Only twice in his long existence he had utterly failed in this. The first was when his wife and children were taken from him, slaughtered before his eyes. He was determined his bonded would not suffer the same fate. Eric had vowed to her that he would not fail her. It was a promise he was unable to keep. He'd run over the mistakes he made that night so many times, cursing himself for allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment. He hesitated in killing the daemon because of Sam. Merlotte would have perished if not released from the mind control of Avel before his death. Eric knew Sookie would never forgive him if he sacrificed the shifter to save her. That mistake had cost them everything.

Unlike his failure with his mortal family, however, he still had hope of making this right, of finding redemption. It was this thought that kept him going, kept him searching. He would not succumb to his rage... not yet.

Slowly he got to his feet, allowing his eyes to sweep over the room before walking down the hall. He paused at the door to her bedroom, leaning his shoulder against the frame. Many of the items that used to cover her shelves and dresser were contained in boxes on the floor, waiting to be put into storage. More and more traces of her disappeared with each passing year, as if she was being slowly erased from the town she'd loved and called home. Two years ago Sam closed down his bar, moving back to Texas. Eric recalled the pain in his voice when the shifter said he could no longer cope with the constant reminders of her. It was in stark contrast to the way Eric clung to those memories, doing whatever he could to preserve them. Soon they would only be in his mind.

He moved across the floor, kneeling at the edge of her bed. His hands slowly ran across the mattress. This was the first place they'd made love. It was the spot he regained his memories of their time together. He lay his head down, closing his eyes, and inhaled the faint traces of her scent that still clung to the fabric.

"I miss you, Dear One..." he whispered to the darkness.

There he remained till dawn began to draw near. For hours he replayed his memories, from the most trivial of their banter, to the reverence of their love making. Someday she would be in his arms again, and he would never let her go. He would turn her and keep her at his side for all eternity. Every night he would show her the depth of his love. He would cherish her as the angel she is... his peace... his light.

Just as the sun began to peek over the horizon he lowered himself into the 'hidey-hole' in her old closet, keenly aware that these were the last moments he would have here, in her place. Tomorrow he would be back in his role as King, pragmatist, and vampire void of emotion. Tonight, he would allow himself a single tear for her and for all they had endured. He would make his prayers to Hlin for one last chance to make it right.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I apologize for the delay, guys, but I really did need a bit of a break. Now please, keep the pitchforks down, ha ha. (Runs away and hides in anticipation of the lynch mob). Love you guys, honest!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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The two nights and two plane switches required to make his way to Venice convinced Eric he needed to purchase a more substantial private aircraft, one capable of crossing the Atlantic. These trips to Europe had become more frequent now that he was King, and he refused to fly during daylight hours unless absolutely necessary. Many in his position had no problem hiring shifter bodyguards for these sorts of occasions, but Eric had seen enough vampires fall prey to their enemies due to placing their security in the wrong hands.

Now that the shifters were out of the proverbial 'supernatural closet' as well, tensions with humanity had grown significantly. Eric knew it was only a matter of time before things would begin to come to a head, most likely when the next species decided to make their presence known. The once radical ideas of groups like the Fellowship had morphed into more legitimate political organizations, but there were still plenty of fringe militia groups. The religious and political divides that once separated humanity, leading to acts of terrorism and war, were slowly transitioning and bearing down on their new target. As Phemonoe predicted, it was becoming more clear as the years passed that the undercurrents of war had already begun. Humanity would unite against a perceived common threat. The question was whether the 'supes' would be able to put aside their ancient rivalries and do the same. Only time would tell that tale. Opening moves were only just beginning; the path to checkmate would be a long one with many pieces captured along the way.

Eric arrived at Hotel Danieli shortly before dawn after his second night of travel. Being a King certainly had its perks, as he was immediately greeted by the concierge, and taken straight to his suite. It was one of only two rooms in the luxury hotel that had been made safe for his kind. The hotel was actually three separate castles, from the 14th, 19th, and 20th century, that had been joined together by spectacular covered bridges. It was situated right in the heart of Venice, steps away from the Piazza San Marco, home to the Basilica, and offered sweeping views of the Grand Canal, lagoon and surrounding islands. Eric's suite was located in the oldest building, once the palace of Doge Dandolo, with all the grandeur one would expect of a Gothic castle. The lobby was an architectural masterpiece of pink marble, stained glass, columns covered in gold leaf, and massive Murano glass chandeliers. Every suite in this building was unique, furnished with a perfect blend of antique pieces and modern comforts. Since this was an unexpected trip, Pam had overnighted all the clothing and provisions he would need from his compound in New Orleans, and everything was already unpacked and waiting for him in his suite.

Having checked his e-mail shortly after rising the next night, Eric knew he was to meet Bill in the hotel lobby in an hour for a briefing, and they would meet with King Bianchi a couple hours after. Stepping into the shower, Eric pondered whether or not he would take a real meal this evening. For the first six months or so of Sookie's absence he'd subsisted entirely on synthetic, but his nature and hunger eventually got the better of him. While True Blood was still the main stay of his diet, he would partake of the real thing about once a month. Generally he stuck with the high-priced whores, which were good for a feed and a fuck without any of the fangbanger bullshit. His days of enthralling the vermin were long behind him. He still owned Fangtasia, but hadn't stepped foot inside since moving to New Orleans, having left Clancy (who was also the new Sheriff of Area 5) and Indira to run the bar. It was not near as profitable as it once was, but enough that Eric hung onto it.

Eric considered that after meeting with Antonio, he and Bill would undoubtedly take in the atmosphere of Venice. Bill would encourage him to find some amusement (and dinner) with a local, and Eric would probably relent. It was all well and good to expound the virtues of chivalry and honor, but he is vampire, not an altruistic knight. The notion of abstaining from feeding and sex for a prolonged period of time were as absurd as the idea of a human purposely ceasing to breathe. It was his nature, his instinct, part of the very make-up of his kind. He honored his bonded as he should, never allowing her memory to fade, and certainly never forming attachment to another.

Finishing his shower, Eric toweled off and ran a comb through his hair. He dressed himself in a maroon, ultra-suede button down, black dress slacks and shoes, and his Ouroboros belt. He would leave his hair loose this evening. He slipped on a tailored leather jacket, grabbed his cell phone and room key, and he was soon headed down to the lobby.

Eric made his way to a small seating group in the corner of the lobby where he spotted Bill, who immediately rose and bowed in greeting.

"Your Majesty."

Eric nodded, "It is good to see you, Compton."

The two vampires strolled toward the main doors. "I trust your trip was pleasant?" Bill inquired.

"Hardly," Eric laughed as they made their way outside. "I have already sent instruction to Pam to purchase a new private aircraft."

Bill chuckled, pausing in front of the hotel, "I am surprised it took you so long." He gestured off to his right, "There is an outdoor café off the Piazza suitable for some discussion."

Eric nodded his assent, and they continued their walk in comfortable silence, allowing him to take in the sights of the square. He hadn't been to Italy in many decades, but always enjoyed returning to the old world. There was a crassness about America he was always reminded of when he came to Europe. Sometimes he missed being surrounded by its history and tradition. There was something different in the air here, as if it were charged with energy from ancient mysteries and secrets, long forgotten by most.

They made their way past the Basilica and continued down an older road into the back streets of Venice. Tourists rarely ventured down these paths, especially after dark. The old stucco homes and small stores loomed over the narrow cobblestone streets, lines for laundry strung overhead. The smells of fresh bread and pastries, baked during the night hours by local artisans, hung gently in the cool night air. Since Venice was in the extreme Northern part of the country, the cuisine here was more Germanic than Italian, which thankfully meant the stink of garlic was not prevalent.

They arrived at the small café, an out of the way establishment probably family owned and operated, which clearly catered to the locals, rather than the tourist scene. It was basic in its appointments, and one would barely notice it if they didn't know it was there. Upon entering, Eric realized immediately why Bill had chosen this place. The man behind the bar nodded deeply toward him as they made their way through the building to the patio out back. Eric's quick count of the occupants revealed four vampires (including the bartender), three shifters, and a few human companions.

"The owner is Romani," Bill remarked as they seated themselves at the far end of the patio.

Eric arched a brow, and Bill gave a subtle nod in answer to his silent question. While the term Romani generally referred to the scattered ethnic group, it had more significant meaning in the supernatural world. Most of the Romani were humans just like any other, but their lines were rich in the blood of the mystical Gypsies of old. Very few who still possessed those gifts were left, their numbers having been all but depleted throughout centuries of persecution. They were human, but revered among most of the supes for their psychic abilities and ancient wisdoms.

It did not take a genius to put two and two together, and Eric was rapidly becoming annoyed. He'd already known his trip here had little or nothing to do with the database. Compton was more than capable of negotiating an amicable agreement, even with one as irritating as Antonio. Certainly any small trivialities could have been handled over the phone. However, Eric expected there was some darker political purpose to this meeting, one that required his presence. Now he was questioning whether this trip had anything to do with Bianchi at all.

"Bill," he said, a hint of warning in his voice. "Why have you brought me here under false pretenses?"

Eric noticed Bill's eyes flick to his watch, seeming discontent with the time it read. That subtle look told Eric this conversation was beginning before Bill had intended, increasing his own agitation. He did not appreciate being 'handled', especially by his subordinate and friend.

"Out with it, Bill. Is there even a meeting with Bianchi?" Eric's tone had taken on that low yet commanding tone.

"No," Bill answered flatly, taking a sip of the True Blood a waitress had brought out to them.

Eric locked his eyes onto Bill, giving him the silent 'I'm waiting' look. For the moment he'd give Bill the benefit of the doubt that he hadn't duped Eric into flying here just to have some old fortune teller read his cards. He knew Bill was desperate to find Sookie, but Eric would seriously begin to question the young vampire's sanity if that's what this was about.

Bill looked up then, and Eric became slightly alarmed by the fleeting shadow of pain that momentarily crossed his face. "I came to Venice to track down a vampire I was lead to believe may have information on Elana's Maker."

Eric nodded, acknowledging the logic of that path. Elana had clearly been one of Avel's lackeys, though not a terribly adept one. She'd hoped to prey on Bill's desire for Sookie to manipulate him into a plot to kill Eric, or at least that was how it appeared. There were many things that had yet to add up in Eric's mind about Avel's intentions. If he truly wanted Eric dead, the daemon could easily have accomplished that on his own. Eric also found it impossible to believe Niall and Fintan could have hidden Sookie from Avel if he really wanted to find her. The daemon might not be a god, but he may as well be in relation to the powers of a vampire or fairy. Eric's mind was often plagued by trying to see the truth of Avel's game, but contradictions abounded, and his endgame remained elusive.

"Go on," Eric said coolly, though his patience was wearing thin.

"The lead was a dead end," Bill replied, taking another sip of True Blood, then adding, "At least, as far as it concerned Elana."

Eric growled a bit, "Are you purposely trying my patience, Bill?"

Compton rose from his chair, turning his back to Eric, and leaning his arms on the low wall that surrounded the patio. Eric watched him intently, trying to discern what was weighing so heavily on Bill's mind. He felt his jaw tightening a bit, realizing that whatever he was about to hear, he was probably not going to like.

"Eric..." Bill spoke softly, not turning to face him.

Eric fought the feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.

Bill's voice was barely a whisper on the wind. "She's here, Eric. Here in Venice. She works as a waitress in this very café. Her shift starts at ten."

Eric stared, wide-eyed, at Bill's back. "_Who_ does, Bill?" Eric knew exactly who the 'she' was, but he had to hear it. Hear it out loud.

Bill finally turned around, leveling is pained gaze at Eric. "Sookie."

While his face remained stone still, Eric's insides were churning. "Tell me the rest."

Bill returned wearily to his seat and began to tell what he knew. "Giovanna; she is the Romani, tells me Sookie wandered into the café about five years ago looking for work. She told Giovanna that her name was Bella, and that she came from a small town in the mountains of Abruzzo. She'd moved to Venice in the hopes of an apprenticeship at the Murano glass factory, saying her family had fallen on hard times. Apparently she was not granted the apprenticeship and eventually wound up here. Giovanna appreciated her calm demeanor around the vampires and gave her a job, as well as boarding Sookie in her home."

It was now Eric's turn to get up, and he began to pace the length of the small patio. His mind was swimming, having no idea what to make of this. Sookie had been here, on the earthly plane, for at least five years. He could no more sense her through the bond now than he could prior to arriving in Italy. He stopped pacing, looking at Bill with a demand for him to continue.

Bill sighed, "She did not recognize me, Eric. She greeted me as a stranger."

Eric arched a brow, finally speaking. "She has amnesia?" The irony of that possibility was not lost to him.

"Not exactly," Bill said quietly. "She has not aged a day... she speaks fluent Italian... she has knowledge of an entire history of life that never occurred. I sense no deception from her, she truly believes the things she says. When I attempted to convince her we knew each other she got incredibly upset. I eventually was forced to say I'd made a mistake in order to prevent her from fleeing."

Eric slumped down into his chair, trying to wrap his mind around all of this. Was it possible his bonded would not know him either? How could she have been here all this time and he never knew?

"There's one more thing," Bill said hesitantly, with a tone that sent a jolt of deep concern through Eric.

Eric looked at him, knowing he did not want to hear what was coming. All he cared about in this moment was that his bonded would soon walk through the door. He could reach her shattered mind, that much he felt sure of. He might need to have her drink from him to help the process along, but any complications could be dealt with. She would soon be back in his arms.

"Eric..." Bill's voice nearly hitched in his throat.

"Spit it out, Compton," Eric said sharply, not in the mood for more games.

"Sookie's engaged."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Okay, so apparently the name Bella is used for the main character in the Twilight series. Some of you may find this shocking, but I have never read the series, nor seen the movie. About the only thing I know of it is that the vampires apparently sparkle? Um... yeah. Anyway, I do apologize if my using the name is distracting to some of you. I debated going back and changing it, but I like it, and it is a pretty common Italian name, so I hope you can all forgive me!

This is a bit of a transitional chapter, and therefore not quite as long, but I do hope you'll enjoy it! Yes, I promise another one as soon as possible. Believe it or not, I do have a bit of a life outside of writing, lol.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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There is a common misconception among humans that vampires are incapable of emotion. The opposite, in fact, is true. Much like their physical speed, vampires can experience a myriad of intense emotions in a matter of seconds. The young ones often become overwhelmed by them, having not yet learned how to cope with the chaos of it, and thus are reduced to their baser instincts as a defense mechanism. They often lash out in fits of blood lust and rage, or speak what they should not in the presence of their elders. If they fail in mastering the art of controlling and masking their inner chaos, they do not survive long.

The older vampires, such as Eric, have gained such mastery. Not only can he maintain an outward appearance of stoicism, but his mind has learned to process each emotion experienced. In mere moments he can separate each feeling, examine the cause, and decide which he will act on and when. Those that are a hindrance to him or to achieving his goals get compartmentalized and tucked safely away. Since most emotions are not logical and have no place in his world, they are not displayed. This is what leads to the misconception that he, and vampires in general, are simply void of emotion.

No doubt any human privy to this moment in Eric Northman's existence would have thought this. Compton's words, revealing that Eric's bonded had pledged herself to another, could easily have resulted in him tearing apart the building and its occupants, giving into the rage, jealousy, wounded pride, and despair that ripped through him with the force of a tornado. However, there was nothing pragmatic about that course of action; it would accomplish nothing. His mind grabbed hold of it, locking it down, and he remained stock still in his seat with a face of stone. Eric would begin to process this problem as if it were any other, beginning with gathering all relevant information.

"Is her intended human?"

Bill, though certainly well past a fledgling, had not quite gained mastery over his demeanor. In times of great stress he still allowed his emotions to show on his face, though fleeting enough they would not register with most humans. Eric could clearly read the pain in his eyes.

"Yes," Bill replied, adding with a bit of disgust, "He is a graduate student in art history at the University. His name is is Giacomo. The wedding is scheduled six months from now."

Eric felt his mood instantly lighten. This was hardly some great obstacle. Endgame for this problem was monumentally simple, and the potential variations on strategy that could be needed were basic and obvious. His plan formed quickly, starting with the basic assumption Sookie would not remember him. If she did, no plan would even be necessary. Taking into account the reaction she had to Bill attempting to convince her they knew each other, Eric ruled out attempting a similar tack. He also had to assume she still could not be glamoured, therefore he could not simply force his blood upon her. He would not risk her developing an adverse emotional response to him. No, this would require some finesse. He knew his bonded's mind and her natural responses better than she did, and assumed her basic personality would still be in tact. If not, he had time to analyze and adapt to any differences.

The time frame also allowed him to avoid the one move he did not relish the consequences of; killing this Giacomo. Had the wedding been in the immediate future, then Eric would indeed have just seen this human drained. However, that would lead to prolonged grieving on Sookie's part, and postpone their reunion much longer than Eric would be content with. She belonged to him, her love was his. He'd simply have to remind her of it.

Winning Sookie back would be the easy part. The bigger picture was what would require very careful maneuvering. While it seemed Avel may be done with her, Eric had to assume this was yet another part to his ultimate plan. He would need to be on guard. It would be better to keep her discovery a secret from most for now. Eric would stay here to deal directly with Sookie. In the meantime, he would send Bill to discuss the situation with Niall and Phemonoe, and seek out answers to the reason for her current state, and methods to reverse it. Bill would leave no stone unturned when it came to assuring Sookie's safety. Now that she was back with them, they could focus more intently on getting ahead of Avel. Eric grinned, reveling in the sense of some control returning to him. They would not be caught off guard again.

In a matter of moments Eric had gone from a state of shock and rage, to one of excitement and confidence; from feeling lost and out of control, to formulating a concrete plan that allowed for all foreseeable contingencies. This was the mind of the Viking, and this was how he had survived for so many centuries. He was not void of emotion, he simply knew how to control them and turn them to his advantage. The useful and wanted ones were kept, the extraneous and dangerous ones discarded.

Eric glanced at his watch. 8:50pm. She would arrive for work within the hour.

"You may go, Bill. Give yourself a break and find some entertainment for the evening. I will contact you first thing tomorrow night," Eric said, allowing Bill to see the confidence on his face and hear it in his tone, knowing he needed some reassurance.

Bill nodded, "Giovanna will arrive shortly. She was expecting your arrival this evening and is prepared to offer any assistance you require."

Eric understood then that her arrival was what Bill was waiting on to initiate this conversation. This meant the Romani was aware of the situation to a certain extent, and that Bill found her trustworthy. Eric would get to know this Gypsy and see if she could be of use.

"Understood," Eric replied. "Send the waitress back on your way out."

Bill rose, bowing his farewell, and made his way back through the building. Eric settled himself for the hour wait, remaining in the far corner of the patio, seated to face the doors. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking another chance at probing the bond. The thick haze that clouded its center remained unwavering. Every attempt Eric made to part the mist only resulted in a new layer of fog taking its place. This could not simply be a result of Sookie's altered mental state. The bond existed through the blood, not the psyche. However, their bond was most unique, and even Eric did not fully understand how it was born. It was almost an entity unto itself, and seemed to be the controlling mechanism for the strange powers Sookie had manifested. It occurred to Eric that its current state may be some sort of defense mechanism, allowing her magickal energy to remain dormant.

Time... they had instructed it to give them time.

Eric shook his head. How could he have been so blind? Could the answer to all of this be so simple?

His thoughts were interrupted when he sensed the waitress coming toward him, and he tucked it all away for further scrutiny and examination at a later time. He opened his eyes to take in the sight of the young girl, perhaps twenty years or so, and a typical Italian brunette. It had been about two weeks since Eric last fed from a human, and he allowed himself the typical fleeting thought of throwing this pretty young thing to the ground, and fucking her senseless while he fed upon one of her bountiful breasts. He smirked to himself when she caught his gaze and got slightly weak-kneed.

"Another True Blood?" she asked, her voice catching slightly in her throat.

Eric nodded, giving her the slightest glimpse of fang through his sly smile. His lust stirred as he heard her heartbeat quicken. It had been a long time since Eric last enjoyed toying with the humans. He was indeed beginning to feel like his old self, the thoughts of his bonded returning to his bed having already begun to spark something within him. Eric watched the girl scurry back to get his drink, her emotions running back and forth between the extremes of fear and desire. He leaned back in his chair, falling into a natural 'enthralling the vermin' pose, and felt quite satisfied with himself.

He had no intention of indulging this young waitress, of course. She worked with his bonded, and knowing women as he did, he expected to spark both jealousy and interest from Sookie when she saw her fellow waitress fawning over him. She would never admit to it, but Eric knew she secretly enjoyed holding her relationship with him over the fangbangers at Fangtasia. She'd reveled in the attention and pride she felt the last night they'd been together there, dancing in front of the throngs.

Eric reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone, flicking it open and hitting the speed dialer. The young waitress could not hide her disappointment over not being able to chat him up when she came back out with his True Blood, which is exactly what he wanted. He made sure to flash her a slight smile before she headed back inside.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Pam answered on the second ring.

"Pamela, it looks as though I will be occupied with business here for some time." He always used her first name when he wanted to stress the importance of not being questioned.

"Very good, Master. Do you require any arrangements?"

"Not at this time, but I will phone you first thing tomorrow with instructions. I am placing the routine runnings of the business in your capable hands until further notice. You may contact me if any extraordinary circumstances arise."

"Understood, Your Majesty. Enjoy your vacation."

Eric hung up with a smirk, tucking the phone back into his pocket. His Child certainly was a most worthy one, always able to play right along with his double speak. She knew he had just handed over the running of Louisiana to her for an indefinite period of time, and would not disturb him unless an emergency came up. She was more than capable of handling the daily routine. Pam would make up a flawless story to explain his absence and not arouse a bit of suspicion. She would not question his need to remain in Europe, knowing he would not take such action if it weren't necessary.

Yes, prospects were certainly looking brighter for Eric Northman. He would enjoy this part of the game, it was well suited to his best talents. The thoughts of seducing Sookie all over again, coaxing her infinite love for him back to the surface, excited him in the same way as the first time he saw her. He closed his eyes, remembering her entering Fangtasia on Bill's arm, wearing that little flowered sun dress. How many ever got the chance to relive the intensity of that first look, the passion of the first kiss, the power of the first time making love?

Eric grinned. Oh yes... he would enjoy this.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Many of you are reading this right now because you got an alert that chapter 19 was replaced. I despise that I've had to resort to this, and to the 95% of you who leave such nice reviews and PMs, I'm on my knees begging your forgiveness for this. However, there are some things that I absolutely must say at this time. The content of the chapter has not changed, but the author's note has, for reasons that I pray you will understand.

After receiving a death threat today - yes, that's right, a death threat (which has been reported to this site's admins) - there are a few things I absolutely must address at this time. For most of you, this doesn't apply, and I hate that I'm being forced to put you through reading it, but there is a small minority of reviewers/PMers that I need to read this, take it in, and take it to heart.

When I began Left For Dead I was in no way prepared for the response it has received. I knew Dead to Rights was popular, but LfD seems to have taken on a life all its own. Frankly, I thought most people would be turned off by my whacked out brain and from all the mythology. Apparently I was wrong. I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the mostly positive response to the story. I in no way expect everyone to like it, though, and that's totally fine! It is not for everyone.

Most of you know I very much appreciate _constructive_ criticism. Bring it on! It helps me improve and grow as a writer. **However**. What I do **not** appreciate is the daily barrage of PMs from people who seem to have some sense of entitlement about the story. This falls into two categories:

1. "**Update faster!! You're too slow!!"** To this I say, guess what? I have a LIFE. You PMing me 2, 3, up to 7 times a day to yell at me that it's been... what... 24 hours since an update... is NOT going to make me go faster. All it does is piss me off and make me want to stop writing. I am not getting paid for this and I don't owe you anything. You cannot rush the writing process or you end up with sub-par crap. A friendly 'can't wait for the next update' or 'excited to see what's next' in a review is wonderful. PMs bordering on harassment? Rude, childish, and obnoxious. Chapters come when they come. Don't like it? Don't read it.

2. "**Make your chapters longer!! They're too short!!"** I have a definite pacing to my writing, and I will not interrupt it just to throw in a bunch of filler so you can read for ten more minutes. This would also serve to make the people from category one harass me even further. Guess what, I'm not a superwoman. I can't write 20 pages instead of the usual 13 or so **and** do it in an hour. My chapters will continue to be the length that is appropriate for that section of the story. Period.

Finally, to the 'pitchfork brigade' – it was funny, for awhile. It is no longer amusing. I have received some PMs that are downright frightening. You're going to threaten my life over a cliffhanger in a damned fanfic? I don't think so. You need a serious reality check and probably large quantities of medication. I write cliffhangers. My fans know this, and for the most part, appreciate it. Will I stop doing it? No. Don't like it? Again, stop reading! Oh, and those of you who think I'm 'fucking over Eric' because I refuse to turn him into some romantic sap, go read some Danielle Steele. Eric is ruthless. Eric is the ultimate ladies' man. Eric is strong, manipulative, devious, sensual, sexual, and beautiful. I refuse to emasculate him because you want him on his knees reciting sonnets. Is Eric romantic? He certainly can be; but he is a man of action, not words, when it comes to romance. This is my interpretation of the character and I have no intentions of changing that. I will develop my stories and my characters in my way and in the amount of time I think it should take. Don't like it? Again – we've covered what you can do about it.

To give those of you scratching your head about this rant an idea of what I'm dealing with, here are two actual PMs recently received (with unaltered, almost incomprehensible spelling/grammar):

1. I like your storys but it isnt nice that you make us wait now. You use to up date every day and now you dont but I see you arn't busy cuz you review other storys. Maybe you shuld stop wasting time reading other fics and write like you shuld cuz we are waiting!

2. Y did u do that? U made Eric nothing but a sex and blood feend. He luvs sookie and u shoud be more romantic. I liked u til now but u made Eric suck. WTF is rong with u, they have to be 2gether and be happy! Eric woud not just want to fuck her he loves her!!!

Those of you with half a brain already see my point. I have refrained from posting the actual death threat I received today because I'm not going to add fuel to that fire.

To the 95% of you who leave me wonderful reviews and PMs, you have my heartfelt apologies for having to deal with this rant. I appreciate your reviews and encouragement more than I can ever say. I've simply hit my breaking point. If it doesn't stop I will move the story to an **invite only** site so that I don't have to deal with the other 5% of you who seem not to possess even the most basic of manners and common decency. If you fall into this category – I will start reporting you to the site. I'd like to be able to open my email again without dreading the daily barrage of harassing and rude PMs. Again, I am so sorry for having to resort to such drastic measures. Rant over.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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_9:15pm._

Anticipation. It is one of the most complex emotions, with all its varying forms, and can be either the most useful, or the most dangerous of them all. Anticipation prior to battle can either help to squash fear, amping one up to a frenzied and excited state; or it can pave the way for that fear to become crushing and consuming, causing hesitation that will lead to final death. Anticipation prior to dealing with political rivals can aid in the formulation of well thought-out plans, causing every scenario to play through the mind to find solutions; or it can numb the mind with nervousness, overwhelming one to the point of indecisiveness and inaction.

Eric sat alone and silent on the outdoor patio, allowing his gaze to wander upward, taking in the brilliance of the night sky. This was anticipation unlike any he'd previously experienced. He waged an inner battle to get control over it, it was imperative he maintain his cool upon seeing his bonded for the first time. For that is what it was; the first time all over again. She would not know him. He would have to fight harder against his own instincts and desires than he'd ever fought in all his long years. The urge to instantly seize her in his arms, to claim her body and her blood, would be overwhelming. It was a scenario that played over and over in his mind for the past seven years, but now he was forced to look to the future, a future he never could have anticipated.

_9:23pm_.

"Signore Northman?"

Eric lowered his gaze to take in the older female he knew instantly to be the Romani. She was short, perhaps 5'2", and slightly on the plump side. Her olive skin was creased with fine wrinkles, and Eric placed her somewhere in her fifties. Long salt and pepper hair was held in a thick braid, draped over her left shoulder. She wore a simple, flowered dress that hung loose down to her ankles, only slightly more fitted than a mumu. Her neck and wrists were adorned with many gold chains and bangles, and she looked every bit the Gypsy that she was.

Eric gave a slight nod to the seat across from him, speaking to her in flawless Italian. "Yes. You are Giovanna, I presume?"

"I am," she replied in a low, gravely voice, and took up the seat Eric indicated.

They regarded each other for a few moments, taking in the subtleties of body language and expression. She swept her eyes over him, studying his features, making her own silent judgments, just as he did with her. He watched her lean forward toward him, arching a brow as she searched his eyes, drilling him with an intense stare.

"You are not like the others," she said simply.

Eric was a bit taken a back at her words, not knowing quite what she was referring to. There was much about him that was different from others of his kind, but very few knew to what extent. His face remained impassive.

The Gypsy snorted a bit, leaning back in her chair, "That is a good thing. If you walked among the dead, I would not return our precious Bella to you."

He cocked a brow at her, "Sookie is not yours to keep."

"Nor is she yours," she said harshly.

Eric's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low and calm. "She is my bonded."

Giovanna chuckled, retrieving a cigarette from the pocket of her dress. "Yes, yes. Bonded," she said dismissively, lighting the cigarette. After a long drag and exhale, she leveled her intense green eyes at him. "There is far more between you than some trivial blood bond, vampire."

Eric wavered somewhere between becoming irritated and intrigued. He would not dismiss this woman as quickly as he would others if they spoke such things. Though it had been a few centuries since his last encounter with a Romani, he knew them to be wise despite their youth. Their insights into individuals and the nature of the world were unique and not to be taken lightly. However, he would not be toyed with like some young pup, either. He considered his next words carefully, allowing his lips to curl with the slightest of smirks.

"I know your kind well, Madam. You would not be sitting here had you not known about Sookie and me long before the arrival of Mr. Compton." He leaned forward a bit, a grin in his gaze. "So, what say we cut the crap, and you tell me what wisdom your Sight has revealed?"

A slow grin spread across her face then, her green eyes sparkling. "I knew I would like you, Signore!"

She chuckled heartily and the tension between them eased. Eric always preferred dealing with her type of personality, someone with whom he could speak plainly and not worry about the tiniest of nuance. It was a refreshing change of pace from the drudgery of vampire politics.

The young waitress approached, setting a steaming cup of tea before Giovanna, and then turned a questioning (and lusty) gaze to Eric. He shook his head that no, he did not require another drink at this time, and rewarded her with a momentary glimpse of his smoldering eyes. The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, turned bright red, and ran giggling back inside. Eric smirked as Giovanna rolled her eyes toward her waitress, chuckling again.

"So what is it? Fae? Incubus?" she asked Eric, recognizing his charms were certainly more than just vampire.

Eric smirked, "Let's just say I am well acquainted with Dionysus."

Giovanna roared with laughter, practically spitting the sip of tea she had just taken. "Oh, that is rich. Our innocent little Bella, mated to a prince of debauchery. How on earth did you prevent a timid thing like her from running?"

Eric immediately ceased laughing, arching a brow. "Timid? Sookie?"

"Yes, timid. That girl is frightened of her own shadow," Giovanna quirked, taking another sip of her tea.

Eric stared incredulously at the Gypsy. Timid? That would be just about the last word he'd ever use to describe his bonded. Headstrong, determined, brave, irritating, even suicidal in her courage... those were all things he would agree with. Never would he think of Sookie as meek or fragile of spirit. He began to wonder what else might be different about her.

Giovanna took note of the concern on his face, "I take it that was not her prior behavior?"

"Quite the opposite," Eric stated.

She sighed a bit, "It seems this may be a tougher road for you than I'd hoped. I thought Giacomo would be the only obstacle in your path."

At this Eric snorted, "I am not concerned with her human intended. He is nothing more than a place holder."

"You would do well to rethink that, Signore." Her tone had grown far more serious. "The hold he has on her is fierce."

Eric's eyes narrowed as he suppressed a growl. The idea that some insignificant blood bag would present some kind of an obstacle to him was not only absurd, it was insulting. "Explain."

"I wish that I could," she said hesitantly, lighting another cigarette. "When Mr. Compton finally arrived I was quite relieved. Giacomo... he may be human, but there is something entirely... unnatural about his interaction with Bella."

Eric set his jaw, "Has he harmed her?"

"Not to my knowledge," the Gypsy responded, her tone intended to calm him, but certainly she knew Giacomo would not be long for this world should Eric discover he'd laid an unkind hand on his bonded. "I will say, however, that her timidity shows most in his presence."

"I assure you, I intend to relieve her of this Giacomo quite quickly," Eric replied coldly. The idea that Sookie could be cowed by some human – by anyone – was not sitting well with him. It went against everything he knew of her, and indicated this was far more than simple memory alteration.

Giovanna nodded, "I have no doubt of your intentions, Signore, but I advise you keep that Satyr's ego in check. You arriving here now is no accident. Whomever kept her hidden from you chose this time to reveal her. Surely you've already realized this."

"I do not believe in coincidences, Madam. I am well aware this was orchestrated, and I will get to the bottom of it. However, the first order of business is to bring Sookie back to my side where I can protect her more effectively," he stated calmly, not allowing her to think for a moment she could suggest anything he had not considered, which was the truth. While he would appreciate any assistance she could offer, he did not require it, and was making clear to her she best think twice before attempting to scold him again. His tolerance had limits.

"Of course, Signore," she said with just a touch of humility. "I will see that Bella is assigned to the patio this evening. We shall talk again soon."

Eric nodded to her, both in approval of her more appropriate demeanor, and in dismissal. While he may allow for more informal and relaxed conversation with the Gypsy, she would do well to remember who she was dealing with. She rose and inclined her head, walking back into the building, and Eric was assured she would be more forthcoming with important information in the future.

_9:51pm._

Eric was now convinced he would need to take a more cautious and improvisational approach to reconnecting with Sookie. Her reactions to Bill, reported lack of assertiveness, and seemingly subservient nature to the human, all added up to make Eric far more wary. He expected a more delicate touch may be required. It also made him more determined than ever. He would not see his bonded reduced to fear and cowering. She would be disgusted with herself for showing such qualities, and frankly, so would he. One of the things that first drew his attention to Sookie was her tenacity and iron will. Her essence blazed with defiance and fiery spirit, albeit sometimes to her own detriment, but these were things he would never seek to change. He often thought of her as a beautiful, wild animal that just needed a bit of refinement, and only for her own safety. Now it seemed she was trapped in a cage, and that he would not stand for.

If anyone had told him a decade ago that he'd be in this situation, he would have thought them insane. His bonded had certainly flipped his entire existence upside down. Not since his nights as a fledgling had he experienced such tumultuous times. He'd always predicated his actions and plans on the desire for steady control over himself and his surroundings. He did not appreciate chaos in any form, lest it be the bedroom. He'd succeeded at maintaining this somewhat peaceful existence until the night she walked into his bar. In that instant everything began to change, and he found himself sucked into that which he'd fought so hard to avoid.

He did not regret it for a single moment, for there were too many moments with her that made it all worthwhile. Moments he cherished. Moments he clung to. Moments he felt almost alive.

And now, it was time for another.

_9:58pm. January 4th. 2015._

The patio door quietly slides open. He forces his eyes to stay glued to his cellular phone, checking his email, though not able to take in anything he is reading. Her scent has already caught the breeze. The tension in his body is palpable, but he will not let it show. He hears her soft footfalls coming toward him, and it is all he can do to keep his fangs retracted. She pauses near his table, but at a respectable distance, waiting in silence for him to acknowledge her.

Slowly, so slowly, he rakes his gaze upward from the tips of her toes... bare legs up to the knee. She is less tan than she once was. It is winter here. The hem of her dress... simple... heavy... dark blue. The fabric trembles slightly. She is nervous... knows he is an important vampire. He mustn't make her feel like a potential meal being evaluated, though he can hardly contain his urges. He wants her... needs her... to taste, to touch, to fuck.

He moves with human speed, setting the phone down in front of him... checks his fangs with his tongue, not trusting his own senses. He would take a deep breath were he human. Mentally counting backward from ten, each number a check of himself. Mustn't give in... mustn't frighten... mustn't take. Just look up.

Sapphire eyes pierce sky blue, locked. Her audible gasp tests his will. Momentarily he cannot speak, seeing the most fleeting spark of recognition cross her face, only to pass as quickly as it came. She is exactly as the vision in his mind. Thick blond tresses cascade around her shoulders. Perfect skin. Delicate cheekbones. Adorable nose. Precious lips that beg to be kissed as only he can. Pulse point on her creamy neck visible with her racing heart. The sweetest blood he has ever tasted calling to him. His hunger is as intense as his first night of rising vampire.

Her soft voice only adds to his need. "May I bring you a True Blood, Majesty?"

It takes him a moment to realize she is speaking English, though delicately accented as if Italian were her native tongue. Her heartbeat pounds in his ears, his fists clenched tightly beneath the table, out of sight. He gathers all his will, forcing his eyes and voice to soften, though there is a slight, throaty growl in his tone. It is the best he can manage.

"Please, call me Eric."

It is out of character for his kind and rank to ask a lowly human to address him so informally. She no doubt knows this. The surprise shows on her face. He is drowning in her eyes.

"Eric..." she replies hesitantly, but a soft smile graces her lips. "My name is Bella."

"Beautiful," he says, referencing the name's meaning. She blushes.

He wants to ask her to sit, but thinks better of it. As it is he can barely stop himself from grabbing her, taking her right here. His gaze is arousing her, he can sense it... smell it. She is uncomfortable with it, trying to tear her eyes away. He dare not try his glamour. She will know it if her mental abilities are unaltered. No fake smile, he notices.

She makes a bold move, reaching her arm out to take his empty bottle. Every instinct in him cries out to grab her wrist, to sink his fangs into her soft flesh. The torture of this is worse than six months in silver. He must get hold of himself. Her next words nearly catch him off guard.

"Giovanna tells me you are here on vacation from the United States?" She is nervous at being so bold, her voice quavering slightly.

He encourages her with a gentle, yet very subtly suggestive smile. "Yes."

She shuffles a bit on her feet, biting at her lower lip. This sends him into a near frenzy. Should she bite hard enough to draw even the faintest trace of blood it will be all over.

"She umm..." Sookie says hesitantly. He would never think of her in his own mind as any other name.

"Yes?" he says, prompting her to continue.

She takes a deep breath. "Giovanna suggested you might need a... um... tour guide, of sorts?"

He could not hold back a small grin. The Gypsy was already earning his respect. "It is true, I have not been to Venice in many decades. Much has changed."

He pauses, considering his words. The phrasing must be just right.

"Your English is quite good. It would be a tremendous value to me to have an assistant with the ability to translate. Would you consider temporary employment outside this café? I would pay most generously."

He was lying, of course. His Italian was impeccable, but he would not waste this opportunity.

She slides him a smile; gentle, but with a hint of something beneath the surface. The glint in her eyes... the way the corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly... it is almost coy. It is a hint of the girl he knew. She may be buried, but this one smile tells Eric all he needs to know. She is not gone. This damage could be repaired.

"May I think about it?" she asks, checking the empty bottle for his type.

As much as he wants to stay here in this moment forever, he cannot hand over the win before the game has even begun.

"By all means. I shall return tomorrow evening for your answer," he replies in a calm but confident tone.

He forces himself to rise from his chair, looming over his bonded. The electricity between them as his body comes mere inches from hers is enough to ignite a firestorm. He hears her swallow, hiding his own grin. He allows his presence to wash over her for a few agonizing moments, inhaling her scent. She shivers.

"Till tomorrow then," he whispers in the husky voice he knows drives her mad with want.

He watches her eyes close, and with a force of will strong enough to smash down a brick wall, Eric takes advantage of the moment. When she reopens her eyes he is already gone, having taken flight, and leaving her breathless with his departure.

It is 10:22pm.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I do not have the words to express my gratitude to all of you for the outpouring of support I have received. Your understanding and encouragement means so much to me, I simply cannot thank you enough. Things have calmed down considerably, and so I will keep posting to this site unless that changes. I promise that if I do end up moving the story, I will provide a means for all of you to obtain invites.

This chapter isn't terribly long because it's a lot of revelation for Eric, and I didn't want to bog it down with anything extraneous. I also wanted to get a chapter out for all of you have been so patient with me. I hope the reassurance of me continuing will make up for the short chapter. Again - thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Eric rose silently from the large bed in his hotel room, pulling his black silk boxers back on. He glanced down at the two sleeping whores still lying there, enticing brunettes gifted to him for the evening by King Bianchi after their brief meeting. He'd gone straight there after leaving the café, wanting to get it over with. Since Eric would be staying in Venice for an indefinite period of time, he'd had no choice but to inform Antonio, saying only that he wanted respite. It was not unusual for Kings and Queens to take vacations every decade or so, and luckily Bianchi was a vampire far more interested in carnal indulgence than politics, and gladly extended Eric the hospitality of his kingdom.

He wandered out to the balcony, leaning on his forearms against the railing, and taking in the calm of the Piazza in these last few hours before dawn. A gentle, cool breeze rustled through his hair. Though his tension and lust had been temporarily sated, a weariness now weighed heavily upon him. He was tired, tired in a way only the eldest of his kind could understand. It was in moments of solitude such as this that he felt it most.

He attempted to occupy his mind by running down the next moves he'd need to make, ticking down his mental checklist, only to find himself once again frustrated by the missing pieces. Eric knew there was some essential piece of information he lacked, and until he discovered it, the puzzle would not come together. As he'd told the Gypsy, he was not a believer in coincidences. The seemingly random series of events that lead up to this point were, most likely, not random at all. There was something beneath the apparent chaos, a method... a reason. Why couldn't he see it?

"You have already seen it, you just refuse to acknowledge it."

The world stilled, the breeze ceasing and all sounds falling silent. Eric's head snapped toward the voice behind him; a voice he knew all too well. Lounging languidly on the outdoor chaise, hands folded behind his head, a pair of glowing green eyes met the Viking's. Eric turned his body, leaning back against the railing, arms folding across his chest. He narrowed his eyes at the daemon, who had traded his disguise as Victor for one Eric did not recognize – tall, muscular, somewhat pale skin, long dark hair, dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Eric would have relished nothing more than to strike him down then and there, but he stilled his instinct to fight. Avel held the missing pieces.

The daemon made no move toward him, looking for all the world like he was just enjoying a relaxing evening in Venice. Eric waited silently, refusing to play his game of cryptic banter. He locked his mind down, knowing Avel could easily pluck his thoughts.

"I am not your enemy, Viking," the daemon said with a sigh, sounding almost as weary as Eric felt.

Eric studied him intently, "That remains to be seen." He paused a moment, taking in the smug, yet tired expression on Avel's face. "What poor schmuck are you impersonating now?" he asked with a smirk of his own.

Avel chuckled, "Preston's the name. Preston Pardloe. I'd shake your hand, but I know how you bloodsuckers are."

The name held no meaning for Eric, but he was certain there was some point to the daemon's latest ruse. Another few moments of silence ticked by before he spoke again. "So, why now?"

Avel uncrossed his ankles, lithely rising to his feet, slowly pacing the balcony. The daemon flicked his eyes randomly about his surroundings before turning a pointed gaze to Eric. "I'm not the one who determined this timeline."

Eric nodded a bit, sighing and turning to face the railing, leaning heavily back on his forearms. "The bond," he conceded, acknowledging that Avel had confirmed his suspicions.

Avel snorted, "Is that what you still think of it as? I am surprised at you, Viking. I have never known you to be so willfully blind. Still clinging to that vampire superiority complex, I see."

Eric growled, but it was half-hearted. The weariness that weighed on him grew heavier with each passing moment, though time was once again frozen by Avel's hand. He was tired of this fight, and his soul longed more and more for relief from it... for peace. Eric sensed he was not alone in that desire; that Avel too had grown weary. He was waiting... waiting for Eric to accept something he had been fighting. Eric began the process of moving the pieces in his mind.

"You had no intentions of impregnating her, did you." It was a statement, not a question.

Avel moved toward him, assuming a similar position to his against the railing, "Of course not. She was chosen, just as you were. There is no replacement for what she is... and none for what you are." He paused, allowing Eric time to process before handing him another piece. "There are those that believe otherwise... those that are selfish, and those who revel in chaos."

Eric continued to grab hold of the bits and pieces of random, fitting them together with the innuendo being handed to him. The selfish. Niall. He seeks only to keep his realm as it is, hidden from the mortal world. He does not want Sookie to play her part in the gods' plan, this much Eric knows.

However, Niall is not powerful enough to keep her hidden on his own. He has had help. Someone on par with Avel or greater. Those who revel in chaos... those who would be in opposition to a harmonious existence between the mortals and the supernatural. Other gods... gods of destruction and discord.

"It was a ruse," Eric gave voice to his first conclusion. "You wanted the other side to believe... what? That you'd gone mad?"

Avel chuckled, "Not exactly. Another child would mean the prophecy had yet to be fulfilled; that Sookie was not the last in line."

Eric nodded. "A red herring."

"We were being watched," Avel replied.

Another piece fell into place. All gods had their own servants and creatures, just as Amun had Avel... and Phemonoe was the daughter of one of them, no doubt forever watched. She was a product of the union of one from each side... a god who would seek harmony... and a creature of destruction. Amun and Lamia. Phemonoe had characteristics of both... the breath of life, immortality, bestowed by Amun; the need for blood passed on from Lamia. She spoke the words of a god, making her connected to the divine; yet she wrought destruction by her very nature. She was almost a physical manifestation of the eternal war.

Eric recalled the legend he told to Sookie on the Temple rooftop, having seen it as nothing more than mere metaphor at the time, about two halves forever seeking each other in hopes of returning to their natural state as one being. They'd been separated by Zeus in the Greek myth, but Zeus was simply the current incarnation of Amun at the time the legend was spoken. Indeed the gods were not even individuals, but simply representations of an aspect of the divine energy, which is made up of all things. Many Pagans referred to this eternal energy as the Goddess, who encompasses all, and cycles infinitely through creation, destruction, and rebirth. The need for balance is paramount – neither side of this eternal war can exist without the other. Yet they are always fighting for the upper hand.

As 'children' of Phemonoe, Eric and Sookie represented this dual nature torn asunder. Sookie; the descendant of the divine harmony. Eric; the vampire child of divine destruction. Both were unique in their creation and make up, the mixture of their blood holding the keys to almost every creature that does, or has ever existed. They were, indeed, two halves of a universal whole.

"It is not a bond... it is the beginnings of a merge," Eric finally replied.

Avel nodded tiredly, "One you and the girl have been fighting with your entire beings."

"So why keep her from me, if you are so desperate for us to rejoin?" Eric hissed.

Avel snarled in return, "You kept her from you, Viking. Your reluctance and arrogance has cost us dearly. The sun in the desert burned you because you refused to believe. You have your mind so set to your bloodsucker ways of thinking, you cannot see the forest for the trees. I tried to shelter the girl, protect her while you indulged in your _time to choose a path_," he spat in disgust.

"Apparently you failed utterly in protecting her," Eric growled.

Avel's voice calmed, growing resolute. "Yes. I went so far as to shutter Phemonoe from her own realm to conceal Sookie from the prying eyes of Lamia, but it was in vain. I am not sure who Niall is getting assistance from, but they managed to snatch her from my and Rachal's care. Now, for the second time in her life, I have lost her and been forced to track her through you."

Eric's eyes grew wide. He knew the first time... when Sookie was a child. When Niall and Fintan killed her parents and hid her with the Grandmother. Avel and Phemonoe hadn't known of Sookie's existence... but they knew Eric was eternally connected to the child they sought.

"Hallow," Eric almost whispered. "The curse... the reason I was running down the road toward Sookie's house." His voice was resigned, "And this time? I do not recall being cursed."

"Of course you were. You cursed yourself with that ridiculous 'give me time' stunt, or have you forgotten? You're here now because you're ready to be."

Eric closed his eyes, leaning heavier against the railing. He could not deny that he was ready for this to end... by whatever means necessary. This weariness that plagued his mind was becoming crushing in its weight. Endgame for him was fast approaching, he could feel it in every sense. The last battle of Eric Northman's existence, as he had known it, was just over the horizon. There was only one question.

"Will we find rebirth?"

Avel turned to him then, and Eric was struck by how his own tired state reflected back at him through the daemon's eyes. "For some of us."

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks – I've got one nasty flu, and writing while doped up on meds isn't real easy. I'm still sick, but have managed to cobble together the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you'll find the chapter worth the wait!

Okay, quick mythology lesson. Phthonus was the spirit (_daemon_) of envy and jealousy. He was associated in particular with the jealous passions of love. One version of his origins place him as the son of Dionysus and Nyx.

Thanks to Gallathea for beta'ing this chapter, and as always, thanks to all of you for the reviews and encouragement!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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The following night Eric stood at the foot of the bed, his open suitcase in front of him. He'd pulled on a pair of jeans, hair still wet from his shower, and was picking through the suitcase's contents trying to decide on a shirt. Eric found himself having trouble staying focused, a most unusual state for him. He glanced down again at the letter lying on the bed next to his suitcase, having found it slipped under his door.

_Signore Northman,_

_Giacomo will be out of town for the next three nights. One of his professors was suddenly invited to a conference in Rome and selected two students to accompany him. What luck for you, eh? Remember Signore, fate will only take you so far, it is up to you what to do when you get there._

_Sincerely,_

_Giovanna_

Though he was amused with the Gypsy's deviousness, he knew the last line had little to do with Sookie, and much to do with him. With this one simple statement, Giovanna was echoing the crux of Avel's words to him the night before. His voice echoed through Eric's mind, every word being analyzed, looking for every hidden meaning.

_You were both chosen..._

_For harmony to exist, both parts must be equal..._

_Shake yourself from the restraints of what you know..._

_Blood bonds... turning... you think only as vampire... you are more... just as she is... _

_Your sister's mother a naiad... your mother descended from a satyr... both drawn to the same man... you think this is coincidence?_

Eric did not believe in coincidence. The unlikelihood that both his and Rachal's mothers had fallen in love with his father, a mere human, had never been lost to him. He'd hunted for answers on and off throughout his existence, but never found them. Until last night.

_Your father was sired by Phthonus._

The nonchalance in Avel's voice as he uttered those words made it seem no more important than if he were discussing the weather. Yet, it was the missing piece Eric had been searching for. It was not a vampire that was his bonded's other half... it was another child of the divine. His turning had only been a means to an end.

Eric grabbed the letter, folding it carefully and placing it in his pocket. He'd reached the bottom of his suitcase, finding the Fangtasia t-shirt Pam had tucked in the bottom, and traced his fingers idly across the fabric. He smirked. Seven years was an eye blink to him, yet his nights of sitting on his throne in the bar felt as distant as his days of being human. He pulled it on, hoping it might contribute to another spark of recognition from his bonded, and then slipped into his leather jacket. After a quick blow-dry of his hair, he laced up his boots and headed for the lobby.

The concierge was greeting him almost instantly. "Everything is in place as you instructed, Signore Northman. The Murano Gallery will expect your arrival at 11:30pm, and the restaurant will be prepared for your exclusive use at 1:00am. Here are your keys," the elder gentleman said, handing them over. "The vehicle is waiting just outside."

Eric nodded, slipping some folded bills to the concierge, appreciating his professionalism. He reached into his other pocket to retrieve the letter he'd written up the night before. Contained in the sealed envelope were instructions for Bill to research the name Preston Pardloe, and an explicit demand to avoid Phemonoe, Niall, and any other fae. "Please see that Mr. Compton gets this."

"Of course, Mr. Northman," the concierge replied and made a little bow, heading back to the front desk.

Eric grinned as he stepped through the lobby doors, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the vehicle that sat there waiting for him, beckoning like a long lost pet. Though it was only a rental, he ran his fingers along its perfect curves, nearly caressing the machine like a lover. He slid into the driver's seat, growling with the engine as it purred to life under him. It had been many years since he'd driven his red Corvette, having been forced into chauffeured, armored cars as King. Eric closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the leather, and feeling the vibrations beneath him. Tonight was all about making her remember, but he could not deny the effect of those memories on him. He threw the gear shift with a grin, his fangs running out slightly as he peeled away from the hotel, not hesitating in his speed as he took off for the café.

He hadn't expected to see her waiting for him by the front door, pressed against the small niche in the wall to block the wind. She wore a simple, navy peasant blouse and long, flowing black skirt. Her hair was loose, save the side pieces which were pulled back, held by a small wooden barrette. The black, Victorian-style boots on her feet were worn, looking almost second hand. She had a crocheted black shawl around her shoulders that hardly looked warm enough to keep out the Winter chill.

He hadn't expected the sight of his bonded appearing as little more than a pauper, and it stoked fires of rage in the pit of his stomach. He'd been too preoccupied with his own bloodlust to notice things he should have the night before. She was thin... not death's door thin, but enough that her once voluptuous curves had noticeably lessened.

Most of all, he hadn't expected the minuscule jolt he felt as the Corvette came to a stop. As her gaze cast along the red convertible, wandering slowly along its length, and finally gliding up to Eric's own eyes he felt it – like the tiny spark made from flicking the flint wheel on a lighter. It tingled at his mind for the briefest of moments; so brief he almost missed it. The sensation had come from the bond.

Eric held her eyes with his for a beat longer, waiting for her almost imperceptible intake of breath and the slight flushing of her cheeks, then rewarding her with the slightest of grins. He smirked inwardly as she seemed surprised by her own reaction to him. It reminded him of the conflicted emotions that crossed her face when he kissed her in Dallas; when she began to fight her own inward battle between what she thought of as proper, and the obvious desire she felt for him. He relished watching her fight the inevitable, playing her emotions and libido like a virtuoso, leading her to the point where she could yield and feel it was a conscious choice on her part.

Eric exited the car, rounding to the passenger side where he stopped, leaning back casually against the door. Her eyes never left him, watching his every graceful movement. When she realized he intended to move no closer, forcing her to make the move toward him, she shuffled a bit on her feet. She was clearly nervous, but he sensed very little in the way of fear, which pleased him. His eyes softened the tiniest bit, allowing her to exhale the breath she'd been unconsciously holding, and she took slightly tentative steps toward him.

"Good evening, Bella," he greeted once she stopped in front of him, though keeping a buffer of personal space between them.

"Majesty," she replied, curtsying a bit.

He laughed inwardly, remembering how Sookie always disdained the formalities of vampire etiquette. Reaching out his hand, he placed a crooked finger lightly beneath her chin, tilting her head back up to his eyes. "Eric," his voice gently reminded her. Her lips parted ever so slightly at his touch, and he fought his need to claim her mouth with his, coolly dropping his hand back to his side.

She smiled softly and nodded. "My apologies... Eric."

He gave her a sly smile as he reached behind him for the package sitting on the passenger's seat, left there by the concierge. Sookie's eyes widened a bit when he handed her the large, white box. "You will need this," he said simply.

She looked hesitantly at the box in her hands for a moment, then slowly lifted the lid. Her fingers moved tentatively along the tissue paper, folding it out of the way. Eric swiftly took the box as she lifted the contents, setting it out of the way, and watched her face intently as she held up his gift. The concierge had done well, it was almost an exact match. He once again felt a tiny jolt in the bond as her eyes swept over the cranberry colored coat.

"May I?" Eric asked, reaching to remove her shawl.

She blinked up at him, her eyes a bit glazed over. He locked his piercing gaze with hers, but made no further move to touch her. "Do you not like it?" he asked in a low tone, searching her eyes for the spark of recognition.

"I..." she said, her voice barely a whisper. He noticed the subconscious lean of her body, as though a magnet was slowly drawing her toward him. Eric arched a brow at her and delicately probed at the bond. For a moment he sensed the mist beginning to part...

...and then it was slammed shut with a force so violent he nearly physically recoiled. It was as if something sensed him... his presence... like he was a trespasser in someone else's realm. Understanding crept through Eric's mind. This was a warning.

Sookie shook her head, as though giving herself a mental shake, and was stammering an apology to him. He barely heard her words, his mind racing to put the pieces together. This was no amnesia his bonded suffered from. Someone had done this, someone with immense power. The mist that surrounded the center of the bond was not caused by any memory loss... it was not a shroud of protection for a fragile psyche... it was a barricade. She had been trapped.

"Eric?" Sookie's voice broke through his train of thought. He glanced up to see she had removed her shawl and was holding out the coat to him. She was shivering.

He took the coat from her with a smile, forcing himself back into the moment. "My apologies, Bella," he murmured softly near her ear as he reached around her, sliding the coat up her arms. Slowly he fastened each button, hearing the pace of her heart quicken with his closeness. His eyes cast upward once he finished, catching her eyes as he gently slid his hands beneath her hair, lifting it from inside the coat collar and allowing it to spill over her shoulders.

"There," he paused to place a chaste kiss upon her forehead. "Nice and warm now?"

Her cheeks blushed and she smiled, "Yes, thank you. It's beautiful."

"You are welcome, Bella. Will you accompany me this evening, then?" he asked, opening the car door for her.

She hesitated a moment, and he could see her chewing over her words. "I would be glad to assist you in touring the city." Her vocal inflection seemed a bit odd until she pointedly reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She was, rather pointedly, making sure he glimpsed the poor excuse for an engagement ring on her finger.

Eric smirked at her, "I assure you, Bella, my intentions are entirely... honorable." It wasn't a lie in his mind.

She averted her eyes with a bit of embarrassment, clearly feeling she had been presumptuous to think this vampire King would ever wish to bed her. He'd effectively planted the seed that any tension she felt was coming from her own desire for him. _Perfect_, Eric grinned to himself, watching her slide into the car. Despite his new knowledge of what held Sookie's mind from him, the path to her seemed the same. He may not be able to push through the barricade, but perhaps he could draw her out.

"So, where are we going?" she asked as Eric slipped into the driver's seat, turning the engine over.

He flashed her a quick smile, "The Murano glass gallery. I am looking into acquiring a few pieces."

"Oh, how wonderful!" It was the response he'd hoped for. Bill had mentioned she tried to get an apprenticeship there, which indicated her interest was more than just appreciation for the fine glass creations. He intended to bolster her confidence with him by making her feel particularly useful. From the way she was beaming at him, he knew she was already coming out of her shell and beginning to relax.

"Do you know much about it?" he inquired.

She nodded, "Oh, yes. I've been studying and practicing for years in the hopes of becoming skilled enough to apprentice there."

"Excellent," he grinned, lightly brushing her hand as he reached for the gear shift. "Then you will help me choose the pieces."

"I'd be honored, Majes..." she paused, correcting herself, "Eric."

He gave her a wink, and she responded with a cute, nervous smile. She was turned slightly toward him in her seat, her fingertips idly caressing the lapels of her new coat. He had put the top up on the car before driving off, realizing that she would not enjoy the rush of cold air as he did. This gave him reason now to shuck the leather jacket from his shoulders, revealing the Fangtasia t-shirt, and watching her from the periphery of his vision. He loved the way she always seemed in awe of his movements, like the motion of every muscle in his body captivated her.

"Fangtasia?" she slowly asked.

He nodded, "It is a club I own."

"I see..." her voice trailed off, and Eric was not surprised this time when he felt the bond's spark, a little more intense than the last.

Before this night ended, he intended to stoke that spark into a raging fire. He was now convinced that he was slowly beginning to reach her. She was fighting to be freed, and he would show her the path; pulling her from the depths of her mind and up to the surface where he could grab onto her. Never again would he let go. The pieces had all fallen into place. Eric knew what needed to be done, and he would see it through to the very end. Fate had led them here, and now, it was his turn.

His time had come.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Answers anyone? Yes? Okay, here ya go! Well... at least one. ;) *crosses fingers for non-pitchfork wielding reviews*

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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"Oh, I wish I could come see them after they're shipped to your home in the United States! I just know they're going to be beautiful!"

Sookie had been raving excitedly about the two chandeliers she'd chosen for Eric since the moment they left the gallery. He'd listened with amusement as she described the intricate processes that went into their creation during the drive back to his hotel. Her hands animatedly waved about as she spoke, and he reveled in her exuberance, seeing no trace of the supposedly timid girl Giovanna had described.

"Well then, you shall have to come visit me at my home and oversee their installation," he replied.

She excitedly grabbed onto his arm that rested on the gear shift, exclaiming, "Really? I have always wanted to see the States! Wouldn't that be right around the time of y'all's Carnivale even?"

Though she seemed oblivious to it, Eric immediately noticed the Southern slang that slipped naturally into her speech. _Come out, come out wherever you are_, he grinned to himself. "Yes, it certainly is. It is called Mardi Gras where I live. There are many parades and music and parties in the streets. You shall come and we will enjoy it together."

She tensed a bit at his words, her hand falling away from his arm, and her face turning back to look out the windshield. He glanced over at her, seeing the smile fade from her lips. His grip tightened irritatedly, though imperceptibly, on the steering wheel as he realized the reason for her sudden change in mood.

They had reached the hotel, and Eric threw the car into park, but made no move to exit yet. He turned a bit toward her, searching the emotions passing across her face. She looked almost crestfallen, like a child who'd been punished and had her favorite toy taken away. It was not the look of a woman insulted by what she took as an insinuation of having an affair. He decided this was an opportunity to gauge her relationship with the human.

"Bella?" he asked gently, his eyes soft upon her. He would let her lead.

She was staring at her hands, idly twisting the ring on her finger. "I shouldn't be here," she said softly.

Eric arched a brow. "Why is that?"

He expected her to start extolling the virtues of fidelity, perhaps allowing herself to admit her attraction to him and how it was wrong. She would probably agree to come to New Orleans if she could bring the bloodsack with her. It was no matter, he had plenty of counter-arguments ready for whatever weak argument she could come up with. Everything in her body language had been telling him all evening that she desired him as much as she always had. He expected a typical Sookie argument... he expected her typical indignation... he expected anything but the words that left her lips.

She took a deep breath, as if gathering up courage, and raised her head, meeting his gaze dead on. "Who is Sookie?"

Eric sat stock still. He almost didn't believe his ears. She could not possibly...

"Was she someone you loved?" she asked gently.

... but she had. Eric leaned a bit closer to her, his eyes narrowing. His voice took on an edge, "How do you know that name?"

She shrunk back a bit in her seat, fear creeping into her eyes. "I... I..."

He grasped onto her shoulders, shaking her slightly as his eyes kept hers locked. "Answer me."

"Please... please, I didn't mean to..." she stammered, her voice rising in pitch.

Eric moved one hand to the back of her head, forcing her still. "I will not harm you, but you must answer me. Where did you hear that name?"

Her voice came out as barely a whisper. "In your mind."

Eric's eyes grew wide.

"I swear it wasn't on purpose. I... I'm a telepath. Normally I only hear humans and sometimes a shifter. I've never heard a vampire before..." she explained frantically. "I've only heard you a couple of times, and just little fragments... but... but... I've heard you refer to me as Sookie in your thoughts."

He silently dropped his hands from her, instantly working to block his mind as he'd done with Avel the previous night. This was a scenario he'd never considered, and Eric despised being caught off his guard. In a delicate situation such as this every move mattered, and now he was being forced to decide between a defensive retreat or an all-out assault.

"There was another vampire," her voice broke through the silence. "He came in a few nights before you... he called me Sookie. He said... he said he knew me and that I knew him. I thought he was just... crazy, or confused... or trying to glamour me..." she trailed off.

"But then you heard the same name in my mind," Eric supplied for her.

She nodded. "Now I... I don't know what to think. Do I look so much like this girl?"

Eric stared straight ahead, finding this situation intolerable. She thought his interest in her had something to do with a long lost human from his life that she just happened to resemble. His back was against the wall. He could either try to just dismiss her line of questioning with a well-crafted lie, putting things back on his own timetable; or he could tell her the truth and hope he could get through to her.

"You... you loved her, didn't you?" she asked hesitantly, a note of sadness in her voice. "What happened to her?"

Eric's head snapped back toward her, meeting her eyes with a piercing stare. "Someone hid her from me... and from herself." His voice was controlled despite his inner turmoil, and the look in his eyes left no room for doubt that he was talking about her.

They sat in silence, locked in each other's gaze, for what seemed like ages. Eric expected her to bolt from the car at any moment, and was prepared to catch her if she tried. This was going to play out to the end, and there was no way he'd allow her to run now. The thudding of her heartbeat echoed in his ears. He wanted to take her right there and then, as if he could just fuck her back to her senses. He could force his blood into her, even. His fangs were running down at the thought, and his grip on himself was faltering. Why wasn't she running?

"Switch seats," she suddenly said, her tone almost commanding.

He cocked a brow at her.

She grinned, "I'm driving."

Both his eyebrows went up at that, and he was intrigued. Was it possible his bonded could get an edge on him with some unexpected gambit? He opened his door, rounding to the other side as she slid into the driver's seat. He'd barely gotten his door shut before she was slamming on the gas, speeding off down the street.

They did not speak as she drove, and Eric decided whatever was compelling her, he would allow her to go with it. That she hadn't run or recoiled in fear could only be good. He'd never seen her drive so fast, almost like she was chasing something, and he sensed an absolute feeling of urgency in the way she gripped the steering wheel.

The bond was sparking like mad. Eric felt a pressure building from it, as if something was shoving at the mist from the inside, though he did not try to probe it himself. He was concerned that any interference on his part might cause the forces that had hold of her to repel him again, and perhaps drive her back down in the process. His bonded was a fighter, and he knew that if she wanted it enough, she'd force her way out. Between the speed of the car, the jolting of the bond, and his pride in her, Eric was completely exhilarated by the time they pulled up to their destination. The tension in his body, the anticipation, it intoxicated him. He was ready for anything.

Sookie tore out of the car like her shoes were on fire, nearly sprinting up the steps of the small house they'd parked in front of, and Eric was right behind her. She flung open the front door and bolted straight for the stairs. As he entered the room she'd gone into, he saw her wildly opening drawers in a dresser, flinging contents out everywhere as she searched for something.

"Where is it?!" she practically growled, moving on to a hope chest at the foot of the small bed.

Eric just watched her, dodging the random flying objects she tossed from the chest. He smirked, thoroughly amused at this point, wondering what item could have her so possessed with purpose. He dared not interrupt.

"Aha!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

She was on her knees in front of the chest, her back facing him, so he could not see what her search had yielded. He watched her sigh a breath of relief, the tension seeming to flood out of her body. Slowly he approached her, crouching down beside her, and gently swept a stray strand of hair from her eyes. His gaze slid down to her hand as it stretched out toward him, her fingers closed around something in her palm.

"I never knew where this came from, or how I got it..." she whispered. "It was just... there... around my neck the day I walked into Giovanna's..."

She slowly released her fist, her fingers straightening one by one. Eric brought a hand up to cradle beneath hers as he looked at the tiny charm in her hand. It was the necklace he'd given her before the New Year's ball... the golden 'E' with the blood drop shaped ruby.

"This is you... isn't it?" she asked softly, her eyes searching his.

He smiled down at her and reached inside his collar. His fingers hooked onto the chain, pulling it from his shirt. He watched her eyes focus onto the necklace, the matching 'S' to her 'E'.

The sparks in the bond had indeed become a raging inferno, just as Eric had intended. He'd been sure he would show her the path back to him, but indeed, she had carved her own road. He said nothing, holding perfectly still while her mind raced with the contradictions of what she knew, and what was right in front of her telling a different story. The urge to take her was so strong in him, but he held back, waiting for her to take that final step.

Her gaze raked slowly up to meet his, her eyes full of unshed tears. "Why can't I remember?" she whispered.

Eric sighed softly, aching to pull her into his arms. "It isn't your fault, dear one."

The jolt in the bond upon his words was enough to almost knock him off his haunches, and he slid forward onto his knees. Her eyes continued to search his, as if she could find her memories in their sapphire depths. He brushed his thumb softly across her skin, catching the first tear as it slipped down her cheek.

"I feel you as if... as if I knew you in a dream." Her voice broke as she gave words to her thoughts. "I think I loved you..."

Her head was tilting slowly toward him, her breath shallowing in her throat. His bonded's words tore through him, clutching at his gut like a vise, tearing at his soul. He could feel how close she was... how the violent storm inside the bond was waging its own war, ready to burst free at any moment. Her lips were almost upon his, an invisible energy sparking in the space between. His hand had slid from her cheek to gently rest at the back of her neck. If it still beat, his heart would be frozen with the anticipation of her kiss.

In that instant, mere moments until her lips met his, the door to the bedroom flung open with a crashing thud.

"What the hell are you doing?!" a male voice boomed.

Sookie was suddenly scrambling backward in fear, and Eric's fangs instinctively ran out, jumping into a defensive posture.

"Giacomo! It... it's not what it looks like!" she was crying and cowering against the corner of the bed.

Eric whipped around to face the intruder, ready to tear the human limb from limb. He was shocked at the face staring back at him. The one Sookie had called Giacomo was the same man Eric had come to know by a different name. He was glaring down at Sookie with fury in his eyes. They were not the green glow of Avel's...

... this was the real Preston Pardloe.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Okay, for those of you that missed my 'review' for the last chapter – if you are confused about who Preston Pardloe is – quick recap: Preston Pardloe is a Charlaine Harris character, not an original. He appears in the Sookieverse short story 'Gift Wrap' in the Wolfsbane and Mistletoe anthology, which takes place after book #8. So, don't keep frantically searching back through other chapters of my stories to figure it out. I understand the incredible Boadicea has started a thread in the Sookieverse forum here (click on forums up at the top of the main SVM fanfic page) called 'Left For Dead – 101,' where she and others are sharing a lot of their insight/research/questions on the story (which both humbles and astounds me). If you can't/don't want to buy the book, I'm sure people there can give you a synopsis. Sorry for those of you who were confused!

Believe it or not, we're moving into the home stretch here (I'm going to guesstimate 5-6 more chapters, but don't hold me to that). As such, these chapters will probably take me a bit longer. One can't write an epic like Left For Dead, only to deflate it with a weak ending. In other words, please be patient about updates – and yes, there will be cliffhangers. I'll churn them out as quickly as I can, but not at the expense of quality. Lots of dialogue, revelation, and answers this chapter! As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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The scent was faint, much more than it should be, but Eric had caught it in the instant before the door slammed open. Bill must never have been in close proximity to this Giacomo... Preston... whatever, or he would have known. This was no human his bonded was betrothed to. He was fae.

Eric moved instantly in front of Sookie, who was crouched between the bed and the wall, blocking Preston's path. His fingers clawed as he took up the protective stance, his fangs bared in a predatory grin. It had been years since Eric had a good battle, and this one would be particularly sweet. Luckily the fae scent was faint enough that he was not falling into a blind rage, and his mind began calculating all the variables of his surroundings. He growled viciously at the fae he now assumed to be an agent of Niall. They would pay. They would all pay.

Preston's eyes focused on Eric as he blocked his line of sight to Sookie, as if just now registering his presence. Eric balanced on the edge of a mental knife, every nerve and sense heightened, waiting for the slightest flinch of his adversary. Their eyes were locked, Eric's glaring with menace and the rage of the warrior within, daring the fae to attack.

But he did not.

Though he remained in a defensive posture, relief washed over Preston's face as recognition took hold. "Northman," he said with a heavy sigh. "Thank the gods."

Eric's eyes narrowed, his body remaining at the ready. "Who are you?" he hissed.

Preston slowly raised his hands up chest level in a surrendering type gesture, "Calm down, Northman. This isn't what you think it is."

"Well then you better talk, and fast," Eric growled, not backing down, and he felt his bonded stirring behind him. "Sookie, stay there," he commanded.

"She isn't Sookie, Northman," the fae stated.

Eric leered menacingly at Preston, his voice low and dangerous. "Do not think to toy with me, _fairy_. You may have trapped my bonded somehow, but she is in there, fighting to be free of you." He grinned then, "I shall enjoy feeding you your bowels for what you have done."

"Northman, listen to me, dammit!" Preston spat as he backed up a step, sensing Eric was about to lunge for his throat. He dodged just in time, popping himself to the other side of the room. "I don't have the kind of power to do this, you know that!"

Eric growled, resetting his stance, ready to spring at him again. His instinct and bloodlust were gaining foothold, but his higher reasoning held him back for a moment. It was true. Eric knew the fae, though he may be powerful, couldn't possibly have blocked the bond. "Who?" he demanded.

"Apate," Preston said with pure conviction in his voice, his eyes now leveled at Eric, telling him that was all the information he would get until he stood down.

It was unnecessary. The name Apate was enough to give Eric pause, the pieces shuffling in his brain once more. He flicked furiously through the information vaults of his mind.

Apate. Daemon of deceit. One of the personified ills released from Pandora's Box. Daughter of Nyx... half sister to Phthonus.

"Go on," Eric said, his voice still harsh, but folding his arms across his chest for the moment.

Preston visibly relaxed a bit, though kept a cautious eye upon him. Sookie emerged slowly from the corner, and Eric pulled her against his side with a warning glare to the fae. The bond had gone silent.

"I would never harm her," Preston said with a tired sigh, shaking his head. "Everything I've done has been to shield her from Niall."

Eric cocked a brow, waiting for further explanation. He was not remotely convinced he shouldn't just kill this fae, much less of any noble or honorable intentions. He would, however, still himself long enough to gain any pertinent information.

Preston cast an apologetic glance toward Sookie, which illicited another guttural growl from Eric. The fae's eyes flicked angrily back to the Viking's, "You aren't the only one who has lost someone, Northman. That may be Sookie's body, but the consciousness inside it is not."

Eric sneered, "You expect me to believe that 'Bella' is some other random mind stuck inside Sookie's body? You are going to have to do better than that."

"There's nothing _random_ about it at all," Preston snapped. "And her name isn't Bella."

Eric's patience was quickly growing thin. "So, you are trying to tell me the girl at my side is not Bella nor Sookie. Who the hell is she, then?" he snarled.

Preston's eyes softened as they fell back upon Sookie's trembling form. She had been eerily quiet through all of this, perhaps overwhelmed... perhaps afraid. Eric tightened his grip on her, attempting to reassure her that he would allow no harm to befall her.

Preston sighed heavily, leaning his weight back against the chest of drawers behind him. "The story is a long one, Northman, and time is running short. You will undoubtedly have many more questions once I answer that one, but if we're to free Sookie, we must act quickly. You are going to have to trust me."

Eric certainly did not trust this fae, but something in the gravity of Preston's tone struck a nerve. It was heavy, tired... it sounded how Avel had looked... and how Eric had felt. Avel had disguised himself as Preston for a reason... it was a message to Eric, but he was lacking context. Was it a warning or merely an indication of an important player?

He glanced down at his bonded. "Bella?"

Her gaze drifted up to meet his, and though her body trembled, he did not see fear in her eyes. "Has he ever harmed you?" Eric asked her gently.

"No," she replied, shaking her head for emphasis.

He turned to face her more fully, placing his hands softly on her shoulders. "Then why did you cower from him? You can tell me the truth, I promise he will not lay a finger on you."

She swallowed, glancing nervously over to Preston. Eric promptly took hold of her chin, turning her gaze back to him, trying to silently reassure her with his eyes. Her voice was soft, but unwavering. "I did the one thing he always told me not to, and I was afraid of how angry he would be... and that he might kill you."

"What thing?" Eric arched a questioning brow.

She bit at her lower lip for a moment, and then took a deep breath. "Someone is hunting me... I don't know who. The night that Giacomo and I met, he found me unconscious in an alleyway. I had no idea how I got there. He told me he'd been sent to protect me... keep me safe, and he has been ever since. He made me promise I wouldn't associate with anyone outside of those we knew and trusted. That's why I said in the car that I shouldn't be there... and why I was afraid when he found me here with you. I broke my promise to him."

Preston cut her off, his voice gentle. "It's alright, Bella. I know why you did." He paused, turning his eyes back to Eric. "Satisfied?" he asked.

Eric leveled a cutting glare back at the fae, "Hardly, but you will have bought yourself a temporary reprieve _if_ you answer my questions."

"Make it quick. It is only a matter of time till Apate tracks her down now," Preston replied, agitation showing in his voice.

"Fine," Eric nodded, turning himself back to the fae and cutting right to the heart of things. "If this is not Sookie, then where is she?"

"Inside the bond. She unwittingly released herself into it after you left the crossroads. The daemon was unable to render her unconscious in time to stop it. Her body became merely an empty shell."

Preston stated all this quite simply, and with much conviction. In thinking over the sensations he'd felt from the bond, this did seem a logical explanation to Eric. Sookie had been on the verge of a virtual explosion in those final moments, fighting to contain the energy within her. If she was still conscious, she would have undoubtedly let go of her struggle the moment Avel sent him back to the mortal realm. She had sacrificed herself... but the bond had kept her safe... and given her time.

"How is it you know this?" Eric continued, the edge in his voice beginning to subside.

Preston folded his arms across his chest. "There is no time for details, but suffice it to say, Sookie and I have met before. I found myself... quite taken with her," he said, ignoring Eric's glare. "When I became aware of Niall and Apate's plans, I felt compelled to intervene. I followed the daemon out of the ether and back to the crossroads when he came searching for the prince."

"No one is allowed in the crossroads who is not favored or touched," Eric said in a pondering tone.

Preston nodded. "It was not my first time there. I have been there many times..." he trailed off for a few moments, a wistful shadow crossing his face, then shook his head clear. "We knew Apate and Niall would not stop hunting for Sookie, and until such time as the merge could complete to guarantee her safety, we were forced into more extreme measures."

Uncrossing his arms, the fae emitted another tired sigh, his gaze once again settling on Sookie. "We had to place another consciousness inside Sookie's body. It allowed her to remain safely hidden within the bond, and provided a target for Apate. Once Avel safely transferred the other consciousness into her, she was sent back to the mortal world, and was immediately sensed by Niall. He couldn't bring her to hide in the ether, because the fae blood in Sookie isn't strong enough. So, I managed to convince Niall to let me hide her and stay with her--"

"You would have needed a consciousness that knew Sookie enough to fool Niall, not that he knew her that well, but enough that someone unfamiliar with her could never pull it off," Eric interrupted.

Preston nodded, "Yes, and the one inside her did... though now she does not even know herself. Obviously, if Sookie's mind were still in tact, she would fight with everything in her to get back to you. Niall knew this, and so Apate robbed her of her identity... and Bella was born."

So many pieces... so much that had seemed random... now tied up in one perfect package. It all fit, every single part, just as Eric had known it must. He had only one question remaining, but he feared he already knew the answer.

"The consciousness inside Sookie... the one that now knows herself only as Bella... who is she?"

"She is my love," Preston said quietly. "And she is your sister."

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Okay, this chapter – I suggest putting on whatever music touches your soul. Hmm... some of you may recall me saying something similar in another chapter of another story. If you'd like the specific song inspirations, there are a couple. First half – 'Gravity of Love' by Enigma. Second half – 'Dante's Prayer' by Loreena McKennitt. Oh, and there's another one that sneaks in the middle... but you'll know it when you get there... it should be familiar to my faithful readers. ;)

I hope you like this one... I poured a lot of myself into its creation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Eric's hand reached slowly forward, his palm cupping her cheek. Her blue eyes gazed back into his own. Their depths held secrets, ones that waited for release. They were waiting for him.

"Rachal..." he whispered, his thumb caressing softly over her skin.

There was no recognition in her eyes... the eyes of his bonded... the mind of his sister... one trapped... the other lost. Eric had to admire the deviousness, the calculated brilliance of it all. The gods were an opponent he was no match for. They had him pinned in the corner with only one place to go... one move from checkmate.

He'd once seen a human on television playing twenty chess games at once. The grandmaster would fly from table to table, making move after move with absolute conviction. In the end he had crushed them all, but seemed to take no joy in it. Eric knew how he felt. He had been bored with it all, sick of the players that provided him no challenge. Eric remembered the grandmaster had become a hermit not long after, disappearing from the world he had grown so tired of.

Eric had been playing his own simultaneous games, focused intently on besting all those he encountered. With every match his confidence grew, his skills were honed, and wisdom was gained. Centuries and thousands of battles later, he had become one of the most feared and powerful vampires on Earth. He was a grandmaster, and just like the one on television, Eric had become bored and weary.

But while Eric had focused on his games, there was one being played against him without his knowledge. While distracted by his own machinations, by all the things he believed his world to be made of, he had missed the silent hands moving him around the larger board.

_I am surprised at you, Viking. I have never known you to be so willfully blind. Still clinging to that vampire superiority complex, I see._

How does one convince a vampire of his age to see himself as something else? How does one force that vampire to relegate his world and species to the level of a stepping stone? How do they overcome his very nature; the arrogance... the superior mindset... the drive for self-preservation above all else?

Divide and conquer. Chase his queen across the board, forcing him to concentrate too much on her protection. He becomes so invested in securing her safety, he misses the forces that silently advance. He has left himself unprotected... because he is all consumed with her. What is a king without his queen, after all?

_The sun in the desert burned you because you refused to believe. You have your mind so set to your bloodsucker ways of thinking, you cannot see the forest for the trees._

His queen had finally been pinned down, despite all his efforts to protect her. But then, that was the mistake, wasn't it? He hadn't used every tactic at his disposal. His mind was stuck in the strategies he'd always employed, and that was hardly surprising. If he'd been paying attention, really watching, he would have seen the one move that could have prevented it. The pieces to the ultimate endgame had all been before him, but he'd refused to see the moves being played as something other than a tactic he was already familiar with. The king was on a black space, his queen on a white. The only move he saw was to strengthen the thread between them... keep her tied tightly to him.

But a tether can always be cut... just as a bond can always break.

All roads led to this point. No move in his vampire arsenal could resolve this game in his favor. His queen had been captured, and he had one chance left... move the last pawn the final space toward the other side to exchange for the return of his queen. Rachal had positioned herself perfectly to save him, but it was up to him to make the move.

Eric had to let go of the vampire.

"She will have felt Sookie's energy trying to release, Northman. Sookie has deceived deception Herself - Apate's wrath will know no end." Preston's voice was raw and lamenting, as if he'd already given up on saving his own queen.

Eric turned his eyes to the fae. "Then I will show Apate Her end."

_For harmony to exist, both parts must be equal..._

_Shake yourself from the restraints of what you know..._

He slowly raised his hands, his fists clenched tight. Eric closed his eyes, reaching into the darkest depths of his mind. Swimming through his own barricades, carefully built over centuries, the black snakes lashed out in their bid to guard what he sought. The monster that dominated him would not easily relent. The roar emanating from his throat was completely inhuman, and Eric was vaguely aware that his bonded had recoiled in fear, but he would not be distracted from his task.

His eyelids pressed tighter as he fought within his mind. He sucked deeply at his soul, drawing out the pain and love that harbored in its depths, the last remnants of the man he'd been, and the building blocks for the being he must become. Instinct took over, all pragmatism and logic being abandoned in favor of that which could conquer the essence that ran through his veins, which had been his only care for one thousand years. He tore into his mind, forcing it to bend... to break to his will, one last roar ripping from his voice... until finally... he glimpsed it.

Eric slowly opened his eyes, knowing what he would see. He'd willed it there; commanded it. A smirk played at his lips as he opened his fists, beholding the proof of what he was... what he had always been. It was dark, nearly black, unlike his bonded's nearly pure white light... but it was still the same. His hands glowed with the energy of the divine.

He lifted his eyes, leveling them at Preston, whose own were wide with awe. "Go to Rachal. Go to her lake," Eric commanded. "She will not be a sacrifice to this battle. Keep watch over her, and wait for her to rise."

The fae nodded, slowly turning to leave, but paused at the doorway. "What of the merge?"

"There can be no whole without both halves," Eric said simply, his voice cool and even. "Sookie must be released."

He thought for a moment, searching through his mind. The answers were coming to him with the ease of ice melting in the sun. It was all so clear, veils of fog lifting and yielding to reveal the secrets he was born to know. The energy sparked in waves from his hands, but were controlled, merely a tool for him to wield.

"Gather them. All of them," Eric said, watching Preston's eyes close as he received the mental images of Eric's bidding. "Bring them to the lake. It is there the outcome of all this shall be decided. Sookie and I must have enough time to complete the merge once I free her. She and I will be vulnerable until then. You must all aid Avel in defending us from Apate."

Preston drew in a slow, deep breath and nodded firmly. "It will be done." His voice was resolute, and watching him disappear with the familiar pop, Eric knew the fae would succeed in his task.

Eric's gaze fell to his bonded, who was staring wide-eyed at his glowing hands. He willed the energy to dampen, closing it back inside his mind. "Do not be afraid," he said gently.

He needed to get Sookie fighting again. Eric was certain her consciousness had been re-emerging before Preston arrived, driving 'Bella' down, compelling her to act as Sookie wanted. The urgency with which she'd acted, the memories that were Sookie's coming into Bella's mind – he knew she was struggling to work her way through the mist. Now he had the ability to pull her that little bit she needed, but he had to bring her back to the surface first.

Eric stepped slowly toward her, reaching for her hand. His eyes were soft upon hers, imploring her to let go of her fear. No doubt what she'd just witnessed from him had scared her. His fingers gently released the necklace from her grasp, and he stepped around behind her, lowering it over her head to fasten about her neck. He smiled as she lifted her hair out of the way, allowing him to easily clasp the charm. His fingertips brushed with a feather light touch across her skin, sending a visible shiver through her.

"Do not be afraid," he said again, whispering low at her ear.

His fingers laced through her hair, combing softly through the golden locks, and she began to relax with the hypnotic motions, her head lulling forward. As he continued, his eyes were wandering about the small bedroom, looking for any other reminders it might contain. He chuckled inwardly as he found himself wishing for one of those t-shirts she was forced to wear when she worked for Merlotte.

While Eric was not likely to find anything that blatant, his search had yielded an unexpected find when glancing over a pile of music discs, and a small grin reached his lips. A few tiny sparks were already beginning in the bond, and Eric now had the final element he needed.

With his vampire speed he moved to the stereo, plucking the John Hiatt CD he had glimpsed from across the room, settling it inside the player. He scanned the back for the track number, and he was in front of her before she'd even registered his movement. As the first notes of "Have A Little Faith In Me" began to play, he watched her intently. It was the song they'd danced to the night of the New Year's ball.

Her eyes raised to his, and he slowly opened his arms to her, one wrapping about her waist, and his other hand gently cupping the back of her head. Eric drew her in close, holding her so softly against him, just as he'd done that night. It was in that moment, so many years ago, that the game of cat and mouse ended. The waves of love he'd felt rolling through the bond, the way she pressed herself to him... she had finally yielded. She was his.

They swayed slowly to the music, and with every caress of his hand over her hair, the presence in the bond grew stronger. Eric closed his eyes, allowing himself to surrender to the moment, holding her body protectively while her mind sought freedom. The earlier urgency and pounding at the bond had changed, now becoming a steady and flowing stream, lapping at the surface with every motion of his hand. He did not need to see them to know the glow had returned.

"Come back to me, Dear One," he murmured into her hair.

Her arms tightened around his waist as the intensity in the bond grew stronger and stronger. Eric focused all his energy toward her, his hands braced firmly on her body, his mind intently seeking hers. She began to go slack in his arms, and he held her tighter, keeping her from falling. Consciousness was leaving her, and in that moment, he directed all his thoughts to Rachal, willing her to return to herself.

_You have fought for me long enough, my sister, now let me fight for you._

Sookie's body went completely limp in his arms, and he gathered her up, lying her gently on the bed. He slid next to her, cradling her to him, watching... waiting. His fingertips brushed the hair from her face, tracing from the contours of her cheekbones, down along her jaw, and tenderly caressing over her lips. He remembered all the nights spent watching her sleep... the peace she brought to his existence... the innocence of her simple dreams.

Eric could not stop the tear that slipped down his cheek as he felt the bond flood open. He cupped her face in his hands, trembling with the overpowering waves of her lifeforce ripping through him, having been absent for so long. It hit him so hard he felt like he'd been kicked in the chest, and he very nearly doubled over on top of her.

"Sookie..." he whispered, his voice ragged and choked.

Her eyes opened right to his, their gaze locking instantly upon each other. The bond flared, the last of the mist clearing from the center, revealing the shining, twisting mass of energy just as it had been before they'd given their command in the Temple. The time they'd wished for... the time they'd needed to find themselves... to learn and to accept... to grow and to change... to make each ready for the other... that time was over.

He bent his head so slowly to hers, some small part of him fearing she might disappear from him again, or even that his mind had finally caved from the weight of his grief. All that he'd suppressed for these long years, the ache... the longing... it churned inside him now like a hurricane. His need for her... his angel... his muse... for her to be real and here with him in every sense... it was stronger than any need for sex or a kill or even blood.

The touch of his lips was no more than a whisper against hers, and in that moment, all fear and doubt were erased. There was only the feel of her, the tender touch of her fingertips reaching into his hair as he tenderly pressed his lips upon hers. It was a kiss like no other he had experienced... the purity of love and devotion that passed between them in that moment... was sacred.

"Eric..." she whispered, her eyes glittering, and her soft lips graced with an angelic smile.

He gently returned her smile, his thumbs brushing tenderly across her cheeks as he hovered over her. She was real. She was here.

"Welcome home, Dear One."

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Okay, POV switch coming up (gee, I wonder why, ha ha.) We're in the home stretch now, everyone, and the big climax is just about here. Thanks so much to all of you for your continued support, kind words, and wonderful reviews. The inspiration you give continues to keep me going.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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My name is Sookie Stackhouse. I'm from a little backwater town in Louisiana. I worked as a waitress in the local watering hole. I'm somewhere around twenty-eight years old, though time has become a sketchy concept as of late. I'm a good Southern girl who likes to think of herself as a modern day Scarlett O'Hara. I am in love with a vampire, but I am not one. I am a human... I am a fae... I am a telepath...

...I am a child of the Divine.

What exactly does that mean? I'm no philosopher, hierologist, or professor of religious studies. I'm sure they could all write a huge thesis, or sit and talk for endless hours about mythology and symbolism, fate and destiny, universal cycles and states of existence. They would sound terribly wise and scholarly, spouting theory after theory about what I am and what it all means.

Eric would probably be the leader of that debate – a modern day Plato engaging the great minds of our time in his own version of the Symposium. Eric has always been the master of logic; searching for, and often finding, concrete explanations for the seemingly illogical. For him, there are always answers. I used to get mad when he wouldn't tell me what they were.

Existing as nothing more than your own consciousness changes you a hell of a lot. Apparently it was seven years, but for me it felt much longer... like decades, maybe even centuries. I had no real sense of time... no awareness of the physical world. At first I thought I was dead and in heaven... or maybe purgatory. Those places might exist, I really don't know. If they do, I'm sure they're nothing like any human or supe would be capable of comprehending, much less of putting into words.

I certainly can't put into words what it's like to live inside a magickal blood bond. No word of the day calendar is going to help me with that. I could tell you to imagine having none of your senses... no sight, no smell, no touch... but until you've experienced it, there's no way you can. For those who exist in a physical realm, all experiences revolve around our senses. Even those with a 'sixth sense,' who might feel the unseen energies of the universe, can't know what it is like to _be_ a part of that energy and nothing else.

I can't remember which philosopher said 'I think, therefore I am,' but boy was he right, at least in simplified terms.

It's a weird feeling to just... know things. I have a vague recollection of hearing voices while inside the bond. Well, I didn't really hear them, not in the traditional sense, anyway. I suppose the closest comparison I have would be the way I hear with my telepathy, but that's not entirely accurate, either. When I first entered the bond, my consciousness was like a tiny puff of cloud. Over time I grew, rolling slowly like fog, spreading out in every direction over an infinite space. There were other clouds, too, and as I spread they would join me, and we swirled and danced together. They spoke to me. They told me secrets.

Don't expect me to answer all the mysteries of life, though. I don't know any of those, and really, they're not for any of us to know. That's the territory of the gods, and I am not one. Being a child of the Divine does not make you _the_ Divine. Even Eric isn't that arrogant.

Don't expect me to have all the answers about myself, either. All the things I learned, the secrets told to me, none of it is concrete. I have no specific recollections of any facts or plans or destinies. I have feelings... impressions, like doors being unlocked somewhere inside. Some people might call it intuition, but it's much more than that. I don't think my word of the day calendar will help me here, either.

I would like to say that being back in physical form, in my body, is a wonderful relief... but it isn't. It feels clunky and awkward and actually rather irritating. These are sensations I haven't known in what feels like lifetimes, from my perspective. Every flex of muscle, the feeling of a stray hair tickling my forehead, even the tiny itch on my foot... it is all so... distracting. Every creak of the room rings loudly in my ears. The taste of my saliva seems as strong as a bitter lemon on my tongue. My nose twitches at the musty odor hanging in the air. Everything around me is assaulting my senses, making me want to dive back inside the purity and sanctity of the bond.

But then...

"Sookie..."

...I hear his husky, ragged whisper. My Viking. His voice slips across my eardrums like a caressing breeze. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard, and I want to listen for eternity.

...I open my eyes, and his are the first sight I behold. My Vampire. Those glistening and perfect pools of blue gaze down at me, brilliantly shining with strength and tenderness. It is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen, and I want to look upon them for eternity.

...I inhale his scent as the last of the mist fades. My Bonded. The aroma of musky earth and crisp, clean woods, float into me like a breath of the freshest air. It is the most beautiful scent I have ever experienced, and I want to bask in it for eternity.

...I taste his lips as they pause, just a whisper against mine. My Love. There is no comparison on earth to the delicate sweetness that dances across my tongue. It is the most beautiful flavor I have ever known, and I want to taste it for eternity.

...I shiver with the power of his kiss, as he finally captures my mouth fully with his. My Soulmate. His lips are like silk, smooth and flawless, pressed tenderly upon mine, speaking of devotion and love in a way no words ever could. It is the most beautiful kiss I have ever known, and I want to feel it for eternity.

"Eric..." I barely manage to whisper, my fingertips playing with the soft golden locks that spill around his face.

The smile on his lips silently tells me of his relief, his thumbs brushing softly over my cheeks. "Welcome home, Dear One."

There was so much to say, and yet, nothing needed to be said. Eric had always been a man of few words when it comes to emotion, but the things he did, the expressions in his eyes and on his face... they'd always spoken straight to my soul. Words often do more harm than good, or at the very least, are hollow by comparison to what we experienced so fully within the bond, and within each others' silence. We both would have been more than content to lie in silence, here in each others' arms, forever.

But, we both knew that couldn't happen. Like all the peaceful moments Eric and I share, this one would be fleeting. If we wanted more moments in our future, we had to face down the destiny we'd been ignoring and fighting for so long. There was no way for us to know what would become of us after, but there was certainty in what would happen if we continued to run, and I was determined we would not be parted again.

I lightly traced a fingertip across Eric's brow, and he pressed his cheek to my palm, softly kissing there. "How much time do you think we have?" I asked him.

"Not long," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine. He took my hand from his cheek, kissing each fingertip.

I sighed softly, "It would be so much easier if I could believe we would simply defeat evil and live happily ever after, like in the movies."

"Evil is relative, Sookie. You know this better than most."

Eric was right, of course. Many people in this world saw him as the personification of evil, but in my world, he was an absolute good. Niall... Apate... the forces of destruction and chaos... none of them were evil. They were merely the other half of a whole, just as Eric is to me. We all like to believe we operate from a place of righteousness... but there is no right or wrong when it comes to the universal whole. Both are necessary. Both must exist. The real goal of it all, in the end, is balance. Left unchecked, one side might eventually dominate the other, and the consequences of that... I can't even fathom. The gods... the universe... seem to have a way of delivering a cosmic kick anytime the threat of this scenario becomes a bit too close. When this happens, the cycle comes round again, and eventually begins anew.

"What do you think we will become, Eric?"

His voice was low and gentle. "I do not know, Sookie."

"Does it frighten you?"

Eric smiled, "No, Dear One."

"Everything will change," I replied, searching his eyes.

He bent down to me, placing another tender kiss upon my lips, and then whispering against them, "Not everything."

I grinned up at my Viking, flicking my tongue out teasingly at his lower lip. The sparkle in his eyes and low rumbling in his chest reminded my body of other sensations long missing from my existence. "You're right," I purred. "Some things will never change."

"Soon enough, lover," he said in _that_ voice, sending a rush of heat running through me as he leered down at me.

I whimpered a little, my lower lip jutting out in a pout. "Couldn't we just..."

I delighted at the roar of his laughter. "Business first. Play after," he grinned.

"Fine, fine," I huffed in mock indignation. "Let's get this whole 'will of the gods' thing over with, then," I snickered.

Eric smirked that classic smirk. "I am certain they will reward you for the temporary sacrifice of your insatiable libido, lover."

"Oh, I'm not the only one who will be reaping those rewards, Viking."

Eric grinned, and before I realized he'd moved, I found myself being devoured in a gloriously passionate kiss. I felt his hunger surging through the bond, and I realized that as much as I'd missed his touch, it must have been far worse for him through these last seven years. I pressed my lips deeply to his, returning every ounce of love and desire, allowing ourselves this last moment of bliss.

As our kiss lingered, I felt the familiar flickers of power in my body, reaching out toward the center of the bond. I was vaguely aware that there was a new energy, flowing from Eric, spiraling and twining with mine. I had become so used to living with nothing but my own mind, that the forces that once unleashed with fury from within me, were now as easy to control as my own limbs. I set my mind to the singular thought of our destination, knowing Eric was doing the same. All my other senses remained focused on our ravenous kiss.

"Ahem."

I felt Eric wave his hand in annoyance at the person attempting to interrupt our make out session, and I couldn't help but giggle. Eric grumbled as my laughter broke our kiss, and the soft sand shifted slightly beneath me as we turned our heads to the source of the disturbance. The brilliant emerald green glow of the oasis danced across the desert sky, just as I remembered.

"Sookie, sex in the sand isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's incredibly uncomfortable when it gets into the wrong crevices," Pam quipped, grinning down at both of us.

They were all here, as I knew they would be. Pam, Bill, Amelia, Tray, Victor... Sam. Everyone who'd been here that night so many years ago. My gaze swept over each of them, taking in the subtle changes in those who'd aged, and the genuine smile never leaving my lips.

Far in the distance, at the top of a dune, stood a large, shadowy figure keeping watch, and I knew from the two, small bright green glows who it was. My enemy... my friend... my protector... Avel. _Khonsu_, I suddenly thought. His real name. I'd never heard it before, but in that moment, when his eyes stared into mine from so far away, I realized that knowledge was his gift to me... and for me alone.

As my gaze returned to the group around us, I vowed to myself that, someday, I would find a way to repay every one of them for all they had sacrificed... all they had given. Given to me, to Eric... to us. They were here to give again, to lay down their lives if need be. They did so freely, willingly, and with no regret.

My name is Sookie Stackhouse. I am a human. I am a fae. I am a telepath.

...and I am truly blessed.

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Sorry this one took a bit, guys, this was a tough chapter to write. It will, no doubt, leave you wondering, but I hope that by now you all trust me. There is a song for this chapter – the Leona Lewis version of "Run".

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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As my eyes cast across all my friends, I wanted just a few minutes to hug each of them. From their perspective, I'd been gone... some of them probably thought me dead... for a long time. I wanted time to catch up, to find out how they were, how their lives had changed. If I had my way we'd all be at my house having a great big barbecue, the perfect summertime gathering of friends and family. I wanted to feel human again, if only for a little while.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen.

Eric and I had barely stood up when the entire sky lit up with an enormous white flash that sent all of us to our knees. The air around us sizzled with power, thick and heavy like Louisiana on its most humid day. The intensity of magick knocked us down like a tidal wave, and Amelia began to shriek from the sheer assault of it on her acute senses. I was vaguely aware of the familiar sound of shifting, knowing it must be coming from Sam and Tray. On my hands and knees, still panting, I dared to look up at the sky.

For a moment I recognized her, or the form she had taken. The memory of that petite, Hispanic vampire about to bring a stake down on Eric would be burned forever in my brain. Elana. Only, this was no vampire hovering in the sky. Her eyes were black as pitch, yet somehow they glowed brighter than the sun. They were leveled straight down at me, hair flying wildly as though she were inside a vortex, and in that moment I believed her eyes could sear my very soul in two... and that is exactly what Apate intended to do.

I tried to look away, but those furious black eyes held mine without mercy. I reached out blindly for Eric, willing myself to scream for him... but I couldn't feel him, and my voice wouldn't come. The bond was on fire, burning into my mind, being stretched thinner and thinner with every passing second. She was ripping it apart... ripping us apart... melting the very fabric of what tethered us together.

Her form was no longer recognizable, having swirled and melted into nothing but a haze, but those eyes... those horrible, gleaming eyes remained. The bond screeched with agony in my mind as it was being engulfed in the energy of destruction. I was paralyzed, both physically and mentally, unable to do anything but endure the horror of the images that flashed in my mind's eye. War... famine... death... the Earth raped of all Her beauty and of all life. Apate was showing me what would come to pass if She, and her Brothers and Sisters, got their way. They would rejoice in the end of all things, the return to emptiness and chaos, the place where all pain and suffering would end. The bottom of Pandora's box... hope.

As the world began to grow dark, the glowing blackness of Her eyes closing in around me, I began to wonder if maybe She wasn't right. Maybe the world was a dismal failure and needed release from the pain of it all. So much hate, so much fear... what really lay at the end of that road? Rebirth could take many forms... perhaps complete annihilation was truly the answer.

"Sookie!"

_Eric? Eric... where are you? I can't see..._

Was I talking out loud? Hmm... I don't think my voice is working. I'm so tired... maybe I can just let this darkness take me... it seems peaceful on the other side of it...

"SOOKIE!!"

_Just let me sleep, Eric..._

If I can just take a little nap, then maybe we can have the barbecue later. Amelia can make her potato salad, even. She makes great potato salad. Sam can do the grilling... I doubt Eric's good with a grill... all that fire, you know.

"Sookie, hold on!! Fight!"

_Oh, look, Eric... someone turned on a night light. Two of them... bright green ones._

Wait...

I felt arms under me, yanking me upwards, squeezing me tight. Oh, I'm flying... we're flying. I blinked my eyes a few times. The glow of Avel's eyes was breaking through the darkness, and I felt a rush of air all around me as Eric carried me away. The sky was glowing... flashing like lightning... booming like thunder... green and black... light and darkness... all clashing together in waves and sonic booms.

Avel and Apate were crashing through the sky in a battle like nothing I'd ever imagined, much less seen.

"Don't look, Sookie!" Eric commanded in a ragged voice, flying us away faster than I knew he could.

I tried to look away, tried to close my eyes, but my body still wouldn't do what I wanted it to. I caught glimpses of all our friends fighting beneath the fire in the sky, clashing with who I knew must be Niall and his fae soldiers. All of this... this violence... this death... what is it for? I can't seem to remember anymore...

"Sookie!" Eric yelled, gripping the back of my head and forcing my face into his chest, shielding my view.

I took a deep breath, shaking my head against him. He was stroking my hair softly, but keeping my gaze averted from the battle raging behind us. I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks, but I didn't remember them forming.

"Eric..." I finally managed to whisper.

He pressed me tighter against him. "I'm here, Sookie. This is almost over. Just hold on."

"But, Eric..." I gasped as I felt us land.

He set me down in a soft pile of pillows, and I recognized we were inside the Temple, where Phemonoe had spoken to us all those years ago. She wasn't here now. I had no idea where she was... or Rachal. I wished Rachal was here... maybe I wouldn't be breathing so hard if she were. She'd kiss my forehead and speak in that soft voice, and waves of calm would wash over me. I'd feel strong and brave like I had on the roof that night. The night I'd offered my life to Eric. I'd meant it then... but now...

"Eric," my voice hitched. He'd dropped to his knees next to me, and I dragged myself up to meet his eyes. "Eric... I don't want to die."

Kneeling before each other, Eric grasped my shoulders. "You're not going to die, Sookie."

But that wasn't true. I was going to die. We both were.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my heart thudded in my ears with every passing second. How could I do this? I thought I was prepared... I thought I was ready. I had accepted what had to be done... but now, looking in Eric's beautiful eyes... the thought of never seeing them again gripped me with terror.

"Eric, no... please," I pleaded.

His hands cupped my cheeks. "Dear one, you must believe me. We will be together again."

"How do you know that? All they want is to use us up... take our energy and smash it together like some perfectly harmonious .... sandwich!" I choked through my tears.

Eric, of course, roared with that perfectly glorious laugh. "Oh, Sookie," he chuckled, pulling me tight against his chest.

I couldn't help but laugh with him, in spite of the anger and fear that remained in a choking lump at the back of my throat. The way he held me, I knew part of him was just as scared. Everything we'd gone through... all the times we'd been torn apart, whether by others or just our own stubbornness... all we wanted now was peace. Peace with ourselves, peace with each other. We didn't ask for this... didn't want it. We weren't given a choice. Even though I wanted nothing more in this moment than to just run, I couldn't. We were being compelled by forces we couldn't stand against. The drive to become one came from our blood... our energy... our souls.

I pulled back to look into his eyes. "If I have to die... at least it's with you."

His fingers caressed my cheek, "Sookie... it is only the end of this life for us. We will be reborn. Together."

"How do you know? When? Where? As what?"

Eric smiled tenderly, that smile that made me ache inside. "It does not matter, Dear One. All that matters is this..." he said, pointing his finger back and forth between us. "...Us. Leave the rest in the hands of the gods."

I nodded silently. I had to trust him... I did trust him. He'd never led me wrong. If he believed we would not be parted, then I would believe him. To believe otherwise... well, I didn't go through all I have only to lose it all.

The sounds of the distant thundering were slowly moving closer, and faint flickers of the green and black lightning were beginning to dance across the room. It was now or never... our time was up. As Eric slid me into his lap, straddling his waist, I gave him a silent look of assent. I was ready... for whatever may come.

"I love you, Sookie," he whispered as I lifted his shirt over his head.

He pulled my dress gently from my body, and I rose up enough for him to lift his hips, and I slid his pants away. I shivered at the feel of his bare flesh against mine and whispered in return, "I love you, Eric."

They were the last words we would speak.

Somehow we both knew what to do, our bodies moving of their own accord, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. For us, it was. We were born for this moment, everything inside us etched with the knowledge and instinct for the completion of this one act. Perhaps it is similar to how vampires knew how to turn others. Eric and I were always destined for this one moment... when we would merge... body... blood... and soul.

I lowered myself slowly onto him, filled with him, his arms grasped tight around me as I locked my legs around his waist. Our rhythm was languid... not rushed or hurried... savoring every sensation as our bodies rolled with each other. His fingertips danced across my back, and mine through his hair. Our eyes never left the other's gaze. I remained as in awe of his beauty as ever, and he in mine. Flesh meeting flesh, wrapped in and around the other, in the dance as old as time... our bodies were one.

Our lips brushed tenderly, pressed in a gentle kiss, lingering with soft, yet desperate intensity. There were no moans, no whispered passions... only feeling. We drowned in that kiss, lost in gentle waves of love, the world around us disappearing as we rocked on calm seas of bliss. Fear and doubt were long behind, left on the shores of the reality we once called home. In perfect unison, our kisses trailed across skin, finding the tender spot of the other's neck, and we began to drink. The sweet nectar flowed from one to the other in an endless cycle... taking in each other's essence... and we would not stop. As we continued to make love... continued to drink... our bodies and blood were one.

Our arms released their grasp, raising up, palms pressing gently together. Willing the energies from inside to the fore, we gathered them in our minds. Bodies entwined... blood mixing and churning... the bond growing and vibrating. This is it. Our souls were seeking the other out... desperate in their need to meld back into a perfect state of being... complete and whole. The crackling of energy passes between our palms... and flows into the bond... white meeting black... harmony meeting chaos... this is what we are, what we have always been. It engulfs us, consumes us... the twining center of the bond unravels... shifting... spinning... each end swallowing the other just as the snake devours her tail.

I feel breath leaving me... heartbeat slowing... yet I make love... and I drink... and I release my soul to his as he does to mine. The shell of our bodies will collapse at any moment, and we will fly from them... but I am not afraid. Nothing has ever felt so right... it is a homecoming... it is the place I longed for that I never knew existed. I no longer want to run from it... but rather run to it... with him. It is a place beyond love... beyond joy... it is paradise. It is release. It is peace.

The light from the bond warms us as it fuses into its endless circle... and it explodes around us... from us... inside us. In body... in blood... in soul... We are consumed. In life... and in death... we fly together. We are one.

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Okay, I know some of you are going to be overwhelmed by this chapter if you aren't aware of the mythology behind it. At the end of the chapter is another a/n which will give you some background (I didn't do it before so you wouldn't get spoilers). One thing to know straight off – the word Elpis is Greek for 'Hope'.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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I remember this feeling. Floating... drifting... fog rolling. No sight... no sound... no touch. However, the space is not infinite this time. I feel... contained... cradled... as if in Mother's arms... or womb. I am consciousness, free from the confines of a physical shell. This is as I was in the bond... yet, different. I am not inside the bond, for there is nothing left to tether. Something else is different, too... I am a singular being... but I am not alone.

There is no beginning and no end. It is not merely that we are wrapped in each other... we are fused... we are whole... merged as one. Our memories, our knowledge, indeed our very thoughts... they are not separate... there is no distinction. I speak as her... as him... as one mind and one soul. One consciousness.

I am at rest inside this safe place. The core of me has always lived here and will always stay. This sacred space is my birthplace... my home... the source from which I release my energy to the physical realm.

_Elpis. Elpis, you must awaken._

I have been asleep for so long, it is difficult to recall any other state. The tiny sparks released from me before the last time I went to rest have been wandering the physical plane, preparing for the moment I would re-emerge. The mortal realm has grown bleak... smothered under the weight of so much despair and grief. I grew weary with them... as vampire... as human... as fae... as telepath. The more weary those sparks of myself became, the more the whole of me began to waken, calling them back home. Without their knowledge I would be lost upon my return, unable to manifest myself into the Earthly realm and send my brothers and sisters home. It is their turn to rest now.

_Elpis, the world has survived on only your glimmer for long enough. You must awaken._

The call of the voice is a pull like none I have experienced, at least, not that I remember. The call of my maker when I was vampire pales in comparison. It is beautiful... terrifying... comforting. I want nothing more than to answer Her. She is creator... She is destroyer... She is Mother.

I have learned the mortals call Her Pandora, though I am dismayed at the twisting of Her image in their stories. She would tell me this is not relevant, but I am hurt by it nonetheless. It is a sign... a symptom... of the greater ills suffered by all who dwell in that plane. But, then again, if it were not for them, I would not exist. I am born and re-born from them, and thus we are harmonious.

It is time for me to go forth from Her embrace, that which the Earthly myths call Her box. If they had not warped Her... forgotten Her... then they would know She is Earth, and thus my siblings and I live inside of Her and inside of them, as they are part of Her. The planes are not separate, physical places... they are layers fused to each other. We all occupy the same space and time, which is wholly infinite and cyclical, not limited nor linear. It is what we choose to see and experience that separates us.

Apate has been particularly prolific this go around. Indeed it is her influence that has warped Mother's presence, and driven many of her children into hiding. Apate finds the humans easy prey, and they are her weapon against all other truths. She has wrought herself upon their minds, making them forget and deny so much. It is that sister which I must send home first. The veil of deception will lift from humanity, and they shall remember all of their brethren, the many creatures which share their plane. This will draw out the others... and war will rage once more.

_Your vessels await you, Elpis. You must come out now._

This time around I was most intrigued by Khonsu's form, so I have chosen to follow his example. It seems appropriate for the current state of things in the Earthly realm. The shells I occupied during my slumber were so cleverly devised by the Divine to provide me with all the tools necessary to maintain my presence, while blending in with the mortal creatures. Their blood holds the keys to all the Earthly races, and I can call upon their abilities with merely a thought. To seek out my siblings, I must find the places in which they dwell, and their presence is always most powerful among those beings in which their personifications manifest. Apate made herself an easy target, the rest will undoubtedly prove more difficult.

However, I hold a weapon this time that was previously unknown to me. I have no doubt the Divine have reason for this, but it is unknown to me. Never before have I occupied more than one vessel upon my rebirth. This time shall be different. I am uncertain what effect this will have on me, but I look forward to the new experience, and in particular, to come to know love while in full awareness. While it is true that the core of my being never leaves this place, the essence I release to these vessels is still me. They are my manifestations, forever guided by that which I am. Khonsu will help guide them in their realm, for they will believe themselves reborn as his kind – this is the choice I have made, and the example I will follow.

Khonsu is already fighting Apate, but I know that without me he cannot win. He has bought me time. The mortals fight amongst themselves. The fae prince knows not what he does, his arrogance has allowed for Apate's dominance. He fights a battle he cannot win. Soon they will be exposed... they all will. It seems an extreme measure... but these are extreme times.

I am amazed by my friends. My vessels have inspired unusual loyalty from such mortal creatures. They are all mortal, despite their belief to the contrary. If one can die, one is mortal, it is that simple. The cause of death, be it first or final, is irrelevant. However, I believe this group... they are special... and the Divine clearly have more in mind for them than a typical mortal existence. Their outcome should be most intriguing. I shall keep them close, for I wonder if they are the reason for my dual vessels... or, at least, some part of it.

_Elpis, it is time._

Indeed. Khonsu and Apate draw close to my vessels, and I must release my awakened essence into them. I will send the first of my sisters home... and the re-birth shall begin. It is now the moment I return myself to the physical plane... to bring hope... to bring light... to revive myself in the hearts and minds of all creatures... before all is lost.

*~*~*

The moment Eric and I merged, I felt our physical bodies peel away... and watched them disappear. Our combined energies glowed a brilliant blue... like the color of our eyes... and we flew together as one. One mind... one soul... like a collective consciousness. Our thoughts, our memories, our knowledge... there was no distinction between them.

As the green and black energies of Khonsu and Apate tore through the sky, our blue joined them in that instant. It was not a plan, nor knowledge of a task that compelled us... it simply... happened. Like the instinct for a human to breathe, or a vampire to feed, we hurled ourselves toward them. The power that flowed and cracked from within our consciousness lit up the world in an explosion of pure energy and magick that defies description. The world was rendered silent... in every plane... in every realm... there was stillness. Layers upon layers of fog we'd never known existed were swept away... swallowed into the blackness that was Apate... smothered by the brilliant blue... of us.

She had been sent away... sent home... sent back to the Divine. And with her... all the barriers. Portals tore through the fabric of the Earth, opening and flooding, cleansing our mortal world from the fog... the veil of deception. Creatures long forgotten were exposed... the truth of their existence restored to the minds of humanity... as if they'd never left. This was no Great Revelation... it was a Great Remembering. Magick... the supernatural... those long banished and those long in hiding... had returned.

Eric and I... finally understood.

When the fog cleared, we drifted down... floated back to the Earth. As we descended, the waves of our energy once again found form... and molded to the familiar... the comfortable.

Now, we sit atop a sand dune with Avel; for that is who he is to me when he takes physical form. We are like him now. As energy... his true form... he is Khonsu. We are something unnamed... something unknown. But as this... some physical form... we are Eric and Sookie. For all most will know, we are vampire... human... fae... telepath. Just as we thought Avel was Victor... or Preston... or any number of other creatures. They will see us as we wish them to... as they need to.

But, we will be forever one in all ways that matter. Our souls can no longer be separated... and when we join in our true forms... we are again of one mind.

I sit nestled between Eric's legs, his arms wrapped around me from behind. Our friends have all been returned to their usual places in the Earthly realm. None of them, including the fae, will remember what happened here. It is better that way... for this is only the beginning... the first spark of war, and they will know enough suffering by its end. For now, we are all allowed a few moments of calm... a few moments to just... exist.

And Eric is reveling in his first sunrise in a millennia. He holds me tighter as the sun creeps up over the desert. We have shifted ourselves from the forever preserved crossroads, to the ruins of the Oasis as it stands in what was once our world. It still is our world... only now we have many others.

"Is it what you remember?" Avel asks of Eric, all traces of his usual disdain gone from his voice.

"It is one thing that no memory, no matter how perfect, can truly capture."

I stroke my fingertips along his forearms, and he gently kisses the top of my head. This is a moment neither of us ever dreamed of, and though we will now have many more of them, this first shall always be sacred. I watch as he looks down at his hand in the glow of the sun... feeling the churning of emotions inside of him as he realizes he no longer dwells in darkness.

Avel has risen to his feet and smiles down at both of us. "Enjoy it while you can. The tide will not be held back for long, but the gods are gracious... they will give us time to adjust... and to rest." We nod to our friend... our brother, and as he takes to the sky and disappears, we know we will see him soon. We are only at the beginning of a long road, but at least now, we know the path.

I turn in Eric's lap, gazing up into his beautiful, glowing blue eyes still fixed to the horizon. My fingers lace softly through his hair, which somehow feels even softer now. I know my senses are well beyond what they were as a human, but that does not lessen the wonder of it. I am suddenly glad for the respite Avel spoke of, knowing I will need time to fully adjust to this new existence.

"You kept your promise," I whisper.

Eric turns his gaze down to mine, and I delight in seeing the familiar, questioning arched brow. It comforts me to know that we are not so different from what we were as to be unrecognizable. He is still Eric. I am still me.

"You promised we wouldn't be parted," I reply to his silent question.

He chuckles, "Yes, Dear One, and perhaps now you have learned to listen to me once in awhile."

"Don't count on it, Viking," I joke, slugging his shoulder.

He leers down at me, eyes smoldering with blue fire, and I instantly find myself pinned beneath him on the sand. "Well, it is true we must keep up appearances, after all," he smirks, baring fang.

My eyes light up mischievously, and before he knows what's hit him, the tables have turned. Concentrating for the slightest moment, I will the powers I seek to the front of my mind. As I pin him down with a flash of vampire-like speed, I return his grin, fangs sliding down. "Watch it, Northman. Two can now play at this game."

TBC

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It is important to understand that the mythology behind Pandora (and her box – which contained evils to be unleashed on mankind - ills, toils and sickness – but also contained hope) at work in this story is based on the pre-Hesiodic mythology, and much more in-keeping with interpretations by those such as M.L. West and Jane Ellen Harrison. As a very brief explanation (quoted from Wikipedia) "Pandora was a manifestation of the Great Goddess (provider of the gifts that made life and culture possible) and Hesiod's tale can be seen as part of a propaganda campaign to demote her from her previously revered status. The Hesiodic myth's misogyny is apparent in the transformation from a goddess to a man who gives all good things to mankind into a mortal woman created as a punishment who introduces all evils to mankind." I highly suggest, for anyone interested, to do some further research on the topic – I wish I could provide it all here, but that simply isn't feasible. Hope this helps you understand the chapter!


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: This is the last chapter of Left For Dead, and I hope you all will have found it worth the wait. There is a song for this one – 'Everything' by Lifehouse. Some of you have probably figured out my love for that band by now. This last chapter goes back to the Viking's POV – it seemed fitting for the end. More A/N at the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Eric would never tire of watching her sleep. The way her golden hair splayed across the pillow, the quiet rise and fall of her breathing... the look of peace on her face. It amazed him that after everything they'd been through, all she had seen and experienced, that somehow she still maintained an aura of innocence. He used to fear the loss of it, that someday the weight of the world would finally seep into her soul, robbing her of that he held so precious. Yet, even now that whatever humanness she once possessed was gone, she was still his Sookie... his angel... his muse.

He tenderly brushed a stray wisp of hair from her cheek, caressing her skin as though she still maintained her human fragility. For she had, though to what extent, only time would tell. She'd been too excited and began testing her new found powers without restraint. He should have stopped her, but, if he were honest with himself, he too got carried away with the idea he could now possess her in ways he could only have fantasized about. Though he may no longer technically be vampire, those instincts and traits would always be dominant in him, just as she would always maintain her predominantly human ways. No doubt this was as the gods intended, for the way they balanced each other, was harmony personified and perfected.

When she pounced him with her new found speed and strength, he was pushed to the edge of his control, barely able to contain the lust that tore through him, his need to ravage her and own her body. Then... the fangs... and he was undone. To her credit and his defense, she went right over the edge of that cliff of control with him, nearly matching his ferocity as they bit and clawed and fucked like they were possessed by demons, right there in the desert under the blazing hot sun. It didn't occur to him that, though she had the ability to tap into the powers of any supe she wished, her shell... her body... was still human. The sound... the feel of her pelvic bones cracking, absolutely gutted him. And even though she was healed only moments later, which she said seemed to happen naturally, unlike the concentrated effort it took for her to grow the fangs or tap into heightened speed and strength, Eric knew then she would still always need to be protected from physical harm. There was no way to know what type of injuries would be too grievous for her healing ability to deal with, and it wasn't like there was any way to test.

In fact, he had no way of knowing what his own vulnerabilities might still be. If Sookie's body was still as fragile as a human's, then he had to assume his own was still prone to those of a vampire. Clearly the sun was no longer affecting him, but that could be some inherent new ability like Sookie's healing. He'd test silver soon enough, but stakes... beheading... those were things he obviously could not risk examining. One thing he did know was that his craving for blood, especially hers, had not diminished, though he would probably test his tolerance for food at some point.

She had become extremely fatigued after the exertion of both using her physical abilities and healing, and he'd done his own first testing of these new powers. He'd often been envious of the fae ability to simply 'pop' themselves from place to place, and once again, foolishly allowed himself to get distracted by the excitement that he now possessed the ability to do so. Considering all their new powers had been unleashed from their blood, it was particularly easy for him to achieve, requiring very little effort or concentration on his part. The problem was, that while it was simple for him to tap into the power he wanted, he failed to consider the actual mechanics of it. He hadn't accounted for the idea there was a step in between the desert where they were, and his hotel room in Venice where he intended to take them.

That step was the ether, the gateway to the realm of the fae. Eric knew this immediately when he was nearly dropped to his knees, Sookie's sleeping form still cradled in his arms, from the overpowering scent. Thankfully, though the smell still made him wild with lust, his higher reasoning centers seemed to remain in control. Eric managed to get them out and to the hotel without incident, but realized immediately how dangerous the situation could have been. Had they encountered any fae, particularly any loyal to Niall or even the prince himself, he couldn't even guess at what the result might have been. In a matter of mere hours he'd already seen what overconfidence in their new found power could result in, and he did not intend to repeat that mistake. This would be a slow and deliberate learning process, and he would make certain that it was done properly. To do otherwise would place himself and Sookie at unnecessary risk.

There were plans to make, and still many answers that needed to be discovered, but these were things he excelled at. All the power in the universe meant nothing if one did not have the mind to back it up. Arrogance and underestimation of one's enemies had felled plenty with power, but they would not be the Viking's Achilles' heel. He'd survived this long by avoiding such things, and now it seemed more important than ever. Just as Avel had warned, war was on the horizon. Eric had felt it more with each passing year, like a distant hum that drew closer. Like water set to fire, the steam and pressure had been building, every great warrior knew the vibrations of it... it was palpable in the air. Apate had been the first bubble to break the surface tension, and soon it would all boil over.

He fully intended to gather all those who'd been so instrumental in getting them to this point. Though he had no specific plans as of yet, he knew in his gut they were all part of this. The gods had brought each one of them into their lives for a reason, and he would not dismiss them as coincidental or random. They had all gone so far above and beyond... their loyalty came from a place deeper than political obligation. Though he never could have anticipated it or thought it possible, the strange band of supes and humans... their odd little cabal... at the core, they were real friends.

Eric chuckled inwardly, shaking his head with a rueful smile. What a sap he'd become... thanks to the beautiful blond lying so peacefully beside him. His fingertips played softly through those tresses, watching the way it shimmered in the faint moonlight from the open balcony. She was so damned beautiful.

A tiny murmur escaped her lips as she began to stir, and he moved from where he sat at the edge of the bed, crouching down beside it so that he could watch her eyes open. He loved the flutter of her lashes as she woke from peaceful slumber, so different from the split second of dead sleep to wide awake that vampires experienced. He wondered for a moment if he might now experience such human sleep again, as there would be no more daytime stupor.

As her eyes came to focus on his, that angelic smile spread across her lips, her little fingers reaching out to touch his cheek. He covered her hand, pressing his face to her palm, placing a soft kiss on her skin. "Did you have a good sleep, Dear One?"

"Mmmhmm," she cooed softly, still in a dreamy state that made him smile, thankful she did not seem to have any residual pain from her earlier injuries.

He leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips softly along her brow, closing his eyes as she whispered his name, beckoning him to her. It was rare her voice took that timbre, but he lived for the moments when it happened. The first time he'd heard it was the night he'd taken her from the hospital, desperate to somehow soothe the pain away from all that had happened that New Year's night. The ache he'd experienced as he tried to bring her comfort... let her know she was safe... it was then that he knew how utterly wrecked he was over her. All the things he'd done, the risks he'd taken... all for her. When she took his blood that night, then offered her own to him... drinking of each other in unison... it was bliss like he'd never known.

He'd thought she would hate him after what Felipe had done... what he hadn't been able to stop. Eric couldn't meet her gaze even after she'd so willingly renewed their bond, feeling... terror... over what he might see in her eyes. He'd convinced himself that light he loved would no longer be there, expecting she might have been broken past the point of return.

Then she asked him to look at her, and he knew instantly there was nothing to fear. The lilt of her voice... the gentleness of it... was brimming with love. She hadn't been broken... he had, in all the ways he longed to be, but never believed were possible. He was brought in from the storm, and nothing would ever be the same.

Now she beckoned to him with the same voice, in the same way she had that night. Perhaps all she had endured was finally setting in, perhaps she was just desperate to reclaim her own anchor in the storm... but for whatever reason, she needed him, and he was finally able to give her the safe haven to let go. This need he could fill.

He slid next to her, enfolding her in his arms, cradling her into a tender embrace. Her sobs were silent and gentle, and he held her through them, pouring his love into every soft caress of her hair. "Let go, Dear One. I have you." He murmured the familiar words, knowing how they comforted her in the past.

Her fingers curled softly into his chest hair, triggering a low rumble from inside him, and he languidly ran his hand from her hair down the smooth skin of her back. She trembled slightly in his arms, making him ache for her all the more. It had been so long since he'd been able to just make love to her... no distractions... no impending doom... no uncontrollable lust. She needed the feeling of security only he could give her... and so did he.

As his hand continued down her body, he slowly guided her leg across his hip, gripping gently beneath her thigh. He met her gaze as she tilted her chin up, her eyes still brimming with tears, and he slowly brought his hand from her leg to cup her cheek. The smolder in his own eyes was tempered with tenderness, trying to reassure her that he was here with her, and that they would not be parted again.

"Eric..." her voice broke again. "Nothing is over."

He smiled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It will never be over, Dear One. We have eternity together now. Give yourself the gift of letting everything else go in this moment... and just be here... right now... with me."

He watched her eyes close and her chest rise with a slow, deep breath, seeing the tension leave her body. In that moment he captured her lips with his, engulfing her whole being into the warmth of his arms, drawing any fear and worry from her mind with his kiss. She moaned softly as his mouth moved tenderly against hers, yet fully possessed her with the strength of his commitment to forever be her protector... her lover... her own.

As his other arm slipped beneath her waist he rolled them, knowing how the feel of his weight atop her made her feel all the more encompassed in his love. She arched gently beneath him as his lips trailed along her jawline, feathering kisses down to her neck, and bringing her luscious flesh between his lips, sucking and nibbling at the spot below her ear. How he craved those soft moans this spot always elicited, basking in every one that escaped her throat.

Her hands roamed his back as her small frame clung to him, her legs hitched tightly around his waist. His gaze returned to her, his face hovering just above hers so he could feel her shallow breaths dance along his lips. He held her eyes captive, just holding still in this moment before he would consume her, letting the pictures of it paint a new canvas in his memory. His need to watch her watching him had always been a primal force running through him, not merely the fetish she might have thought it to be. It was that light... the way her eyes glistened whenever he, and only he, looked at her... really looked at her. He'd seen it that first night at Fangtasia, and it had drawn him in, drawn him to her. It was how he knew she would be his. That light belonged to him alone.

The strange, shivering sensation he experienced only with her ran through him as he slowly and gently pressed himself inside her, holding still for a few moments as he buried himself in her depths, placing another kiss upon her perfect lips. She was sheltered beneath him, trembling with ragged breaths, tears softly spilling across her temples. Again she whispered his name, causing him to give that small, extra push to drive himself deeper. Never would he cease to be in awe of the power she held over him... the way she made him shudder and ache with need for her... the all-consuming love that possessed him. With her... in her... he was alive.

Just as she had uttered his name, hers now spilled from his lips as he began to move within her. He would not rush... he would not ride her like an animal in heat. Every stroke was intense... deep... driven from that place in his soul that only she could touch. He possessed her as she consumed him, and their moans bordered on the cries of one choked by the weight of intense passion and emotion. His arms held fast around her as hers clung to him, their eyes never breaking from the other's. The light in hers grew as they neared the edge of their release, enveloping him in the peace of her, guiding his way to salvation... until they went tense in each other's embrace, releasing into the bliss and ecstasy of a love for the ages... a love that knew no bounds... pure and eternal.

That night, he fell asleep in her arms...

...and Eric Northman... dreamed.

**The End.**

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I have decided I _will_ be doing the third installment for this series (it has always been set up to be a trilogy since the beginning of Dead to Rights). However, do not expect it soon. I need a break in the worst way, and I also would like to indulge some ideas I have for lighter (i.e. non-warped) fics and shorts. I have purposely not left LfD in a cliffie (and there was great rejoicing) so that you all aren't tormented waiting for it to come out. I have no time estimate on when it will.

For those of you who still have questions about this story, I will be hopping into the Left For Dead 101 thread and willing to answer them, so please, ask them there so that others might get similar questions answered without me having to do so multiple times. The link is: w w w . fanfiction . net / topic / 55534 / 12500271 / 1 / (remove all spaces).

There simply aren't enough words for me to express my gratitude for the outpouring of support and love I've received for this story. I am still truly in shock at how many people liked my warped and twisted brain, and I wish I could send every one of you a case of Twix bars. Special thanks to Rachalann, Boadicea, Gallathea, Morgaine, and all the ladies/gents of the LTAE thread on the TB Wiki for keeping me sane and continuing on. And to all of you who reviewed, PM'd, and wrote comments on my thread – you are the inspiration that keeps me from giving up.

~ Love to all of you, Malanna


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